Pop Sonnets 1-30

Here is the beginning of my pop-sonnets, not to follow an exact pattern of a sonnet, but pretty close...There will probably be more, if time allows... POP SONNET #1 To consider the path of light Is entering into our concept Bring forth the world of night In a mirror of objected precept Forgiven over nothing that when Takes away the err of kings When faded memories are then It is the object that it brings Certain shells of fading sound Sleeps potent rings of fear When the dawn settles our ground Controls the sounds of yesteryear No longer to catch a thief In the hour of his grief-- POP SONNET #2 In an abject confusion we are found Defeating lies of thoughtless days And the bearing of this sound Is not heard above the haze Sleeping becomes mechanical and death Is upon the outer edges of sin Bring us back to where our breath Is possible to turn chagrin Simplify linguistic forms of majors And bring about the abstract time When we simply turn to wagers The fire consumes our early rhyme And in a kennel we fear our strength Until the reaper cuts our length POP SONNET #3 My mind is numb from what I write And the reckoning is near Share a dream from candlelight And lift us out of forbidden leer If it pressures the ways we’ve seen Then apart from separate shrugs I can’t tell you where I’ve been Unless it crawls on us like drugs When the world is reorganized From a painstaking approach to logic It reappears mistakes that paralyzed The simpler times of Mary’s project That repeats mistakes of order When life is on the border POP SONNET #4 Reawaken inertia is this hoax Tread around in my antidote for when The cure is maddening my folks There is no lost treasure to engine And a forcible reevaluated plan Will take us back to all our fun And then the world becomes its fan For all the times we’ve come undone In a vortex nothing’s left Except for pain and misery What is left is all bereft Unless we simply disagree And when that order sheds light Chaos fades into the night POP SONNET#5 In translucent waves a memory Sings a song of lost desire In the presence of energy There may be nothing left to rewire About a thousand times I go To a place I cannot be In the days I’ve been below All the memories wrecked by sea When my thoughts are overused And it sounds like pain inside There’s a day that I’ve abused Like a storm without a guide Finish what we’ve started here Eventually the days are clear POP SONNET#6 The simple minds of peasant kings Records a fleeting house of gold When the trampled devotings Become a fear that isn’t sold Unless one day we arrive at hope The crumpled losses in our mix Doesn’t champion all this dope Unless we all need a quick fix Gratify me when the dust Floats into cosmic rays And a particular man made lust Simply floats off when love stays But the past is all a mess And the light maybe still can bless POP SONNET#7 At the nearer life of make believe Imagination lends a hand In the stormy night of our own grieve Left us hurting in the sand If we offer it to God Snakes will chew on all our dreams If we could spare old Nimrod Perhaps we all would hear less screams Ideals are made to last Unless we sell our simple words When everything is past The vindictive man will bring us heards Why a darker day of magic When forbidden icons can’t be tragic POP SONNET#8 Wake up and smell the sound Of a larger complete reason When there’s no one left around And the goal I’m after becomes treason Unless a simpler twist of mind Brings alarming sense of flight There is nothing left behind Except a pointless scary fight And when the day is overridden By the lust we have for greed Then we all just can’t be hidden Until a day of basic need When there’s healing in a text We all just remain perplexed POP SONNET#9 Throw out the mindless numbing When there’s noises in my mind Unless we forget that our plumbing Is a trend we’d like to find And a tread of lack of danger Brings a soulless trek of shame It’s a baby in a manger Lest the soul is made to blame To recapture our lost youth and eager Time to create a horizon of endless game And when our resources become meager The crippled crutches become lame Unless a miracle brings about loss In the lost search for the cross POP SONNET#10 In humanism we find our flesh In a hidden place of time Unless that place is wire mesh Or a delusion of the grime And in a soulless motion left Can bring about lust and hate Then competition is bereft Of a leftover of the date In time and motion we can change Even if we hold what’s true Then the power brings the range When there’s nothing left to do For a moment lose your faith And you’ll suffer in a wraith POP SONNET#11 (in spanish, without the accents) Recuerdem memoria en personas aqui En es todo mundo practicar En un esta boleta cosas un a di Lo refromar dia de bailar Repetar un lenguaje en un dria de dos Un familia es un mundo factor Terminar las creen los O recuerdan dio falso cuanto actor En Espana y Mexico nada tiempo pero blanca cosas Sobre mucho de palabras siempre de manos tiempos Esta cosas les dias de roasa Tiempo es descrubriendo para si lo O nada repetition es falso en mi cabesa Regularmente libros de besa POP SONNET #12 Respond with grammar in a vine To make a trip that passes fast Unless magic drops a dime In the thoughts still made to last Or fragility always creates shame In a schizophrenic mode That brings us just one dame Unless sexism takes our node And we trust in channels aware Do not let it in our heads Sexuality comes to bare A childhood full of all our dreads Peace be with you is what they say But who can practice that anyway? POP SONNET#13 When images are made to last And a dreary day of love When we consume them all so fast Keeps on whistling from above Shout assemblage on days of old Or make nothing out of nothing When we feel a bit too bold Then that’s the end of a sharp sting Or reverse the mental challenge here That will cripple all our minds Then again I see forever near When the reviler simply rewinds Lose nothing but your win So we can all begin again-- POP SONNET #14 When we’ve pave the way to the chance Unless we develop all the time We were simply meant to dance To repeat all when we mime And emphasis on freedom comes When we’ve paid for all that’s here A simpler burden falls from crumbs When the aspect is nowhere near To lie under a vagabond heart Unless there’s time to take a stand Is not to replace an old lost art And everyone just lent a hand Don’t drop your last quarter Unless you are ready to order! POP SONNET #15 In time you might see that the fun is over Unless we drive into the night And bank on clouded clover When no one’s here and no one’s right Of course you could have taken less Darkness will all turn to dawn Of this lost art of all prowess And everyone is gone Blow away my simple mind Lord Teach me to be pleasant in your ways Don’t corrupt me with the horde It was all just a certain phase And then when we grow up Sometimes I throw up POP SONNET #16 Don’t mind me I’m just a child Unless that makes you want to drone I discovered Oscar Wilde And it makes me feel alone When there’s something always missing That is simply out of reach I ignore the illusion wishing One day not to teach In the storm of my illusion may Simple scribes can scream and shout Unless heaving full of projects day Are free anyway I doubt Storm the castle, take no prisoner time Unless one day we can see through the rhyme POP SONNET #17 In the hours of all our doubts There’s a refreshing course of action now And we know not what it’s about That makes the most of that anyhow Settle the score over literary means Unless you’ve joked about everything And don’t keep trying to rebuild all the scenes And choked on a maiden’s ring Then again my empty head Is an assortment of this empty man Filled with lead and stuffed with bread Ring of fire leant a hand Unless the discovery is And there is a hint of clover POP SONNET#18 Space and science exploration rule my mind Of course the last old offering But I doubt there’s anything I can find I will give back to Jesus my King Unless there’s no time for me to steal So why’d you blow up all our heads That cannot change just by sheer will Wasting time on all our dreads And the emptiness of shadows all Lost the lightning from above But murder cannot quench them all Fails a simpler kind of love Time will tell which theory works best And last winter I overdosed on turkey breast POP SONNET#19 Some say Magi, some say sages Count a farthing as a value Brings the wisdom of the ages Free your mind in the life of dew Fear and trembling makes it easier And we almost wiped them out When suffering makes it sleazier Was there ever any doubt So it’s will is ending in a box Unless it all just falls apart Take it out on dusty lox But there’s always time to start It’s neverending anyway So why must we fade away POP SONNET#20 The sound of my mind is never silent Though I wouldn’t mind if it really were Of course there’s death in life’s violent Memory which won’t occur When we take the time for chemistry and Not rushing into ditches We’ll never change the channel bland Unless it’s full of witches And the kingdom lost is the kingdom gained So why’s the dropping almost common Now I just feel less unchained As I sip down my last Ramen Of a course of time it becomes better Unless there is an old bed wetter POP SONNET#21 Curses come and curses go Make your mind up who you love most But when there’s nothing left to show Or prepare to meet your roast The powers that be are at bay Unless I stop pointing fingers But I lied to them anyway And wonder why time lingers The politics of my old way But there’s treasure in my pleasure Can refine me in a stay And I haven’t read measure for measure It sounds like a good play I wonder who could direct it anyway POP SONNET#22 Who pays for everything round here And a priceless value of worthless rats It’s the gov’ so buy a beer Is just a batter ball of bats Or can I empty my last shock Who believes me when I say Blame it all on Master Cock You cannot always have it your way Unless I want it, its just a gift Of my guiltiness and crime That got soiled in the rift In addiction of the slime Fortitude is certainly appearing on both sides We friends of Jeckyll and friends of Hyde POP SONNET #23 Cast not a wafer to the lost Or laugh at all and feel sublime How much does every penny cost When you’ve echoed in my mind Take college for example Drive me crazy with your tactics Or take a thousand audit sample And mindnumbing prophylactics Make not a heap of your life again Stir up a hornet’s nest or two Or it won’t be pretty in the end Can someone find my glue And really will a lapse in taste Be all that end’s the human race? POP SONNET#24 What lies in the future what lies ahead But is a laughter worth a moment then Don’t use foul language or we’ll all wind up dead When the shower is a nicer grin And the exhaustion of my boredom Brings the memories of pain Doesn’t matter I’ve adored them And no one knows my name Why would they want to when it’s a goner And I’m feeling a bit hungry when And the lessons just a loner I can’t really find a place to fit in When I’m smoking all the time I give away my last dime SONNET#25 When people write words way too fast But literal places make more sense They may just simply run out of gas Unless I’m starting just to wince Where’d the time go, where has time gone Will I type this all in time If there’s nothing left to ponder on And fall apart from my last dime Fix your fix, when you are in the mix Unless you are hurting from a despot And maybe leave it up to tricks Who looked back unlike Lot Fan the waters and the curtains Because nothing is for certain SONNET#26 Where did I go to the place of Spring Make us holier than thou Without bringing any offering And then play on Le Trou Or if I lost it at the sound But I’m really scared of quitting Time will pass it on to ground Make an adjustment in the fitting And the fixtures alone of hurt and pain Or is it simply the logic of Recall another notion’s vain The one who loves us up above Time cannot arise through empty wounds From way too many fun cartoons SONNET#27 A thousand days will turn to dust But an evening dew drop on the wall If we operate with rust Doesn’t bother me at all Lest it is last with my own poison Lesson planning that was not at all a bad one And I can’t handle all the noise in Just don’t know if I can end the Sun Wouldn’t want to it is a burden And the familiar territory Guilt was heaped on every warden Scared me into my new story Bout the good times and the bad That we’ve had with mom and dad SONNET#28 Is there an end to all the love In an empty willow tree Suffering the one above Don’t know how, then don’t ask me There’s only rubs and blows and punches Unless I eat a meal or two But there’s nothing left for sack lunches I could ride in your canoe Or let an empty echo holler To take time out and let things ride That’s your surface on the waller From all the emptiness inside And take time out for things that matter Just make sure to drain your bladder SONNET#29 Spend it all on thoughtless patterns It’s just a movie’s all I said Then we’ll reach the Rings of Saturn Losing face is what I dread When the memory subsides Or lest us all just abuse you I’ve taken one too many rides Kick your face and start to use you Probably now I’m feelin’ good An empty race of empty places But hunger’s more when gettin’s should There’s nothing in the thrill of chases But I’m still on medication Unless you think I’m on vacation POP SONNET#30 If I live to see tomorrow And if I cannot feel common Will there truly be more sorrow There’s an element to balmin’ So if I chased the master race There’s probably forgiveness Unless I cannot forgive place For opening at Christmas Fill it all with just more stuff In the heart of my desire And then no one will call my bluff I never again should feed the fire Unless I called down the doorway And emptied out the final pay -------------------

WEB-O-VERSE by Aaron Sheley

THE CINEMATIC “WEB-O-VERSE”
By Aaron Sheley

Forget not the ways of SYMBOLIC LOGIC to pass

cinemastudies405
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
CINEMA STUDIES 405--FREE WEB-VERSITY
THE PLATO’S CAVE EXPERIENCE PRESENTS

(a novice hypothetical approach to criticism taking place in Denver,
Colorado..)

An AARON SHELEY Book (the cine-bible) or an irrational guide to critical
aesthetics

Inspired by JASON SHELEY, CRYSTAL HALE, and EMILIE HOPE

Special Thanks to David H. Richter, David Bordwell and Daniel Tiffany

RULES OF THE ILLUSION (THE IONOXICON)
1. All we have to fear is Hollywood herself
2. zero equals zero times energy divided by mass times capacity equals one times zero equals zero...or NO NUKES IS GOOD NUKES
3. It is a Free Academic Dispensary
4. Do or Do not be careful with or without reservations....(notice the options...but as noted...Indulgences make it all go away)
5. Duly Notable, Proven Quandaries with Abstract Logic are Buyable (though RANDOM) Theories

--Other titles selected for this BLOG--

THE DIVINE CONTRADICTARIAN

Or Confessions of a Teenage Nazi Spy

THE OLD TESTAMENT OF CINEMA (Cannabis Voluminous)

Notes from my philosophical advisor (Jason Sheley)

1) the argument at the beginning makes no sense at all.

2) Fundamental problem: the Ancient Greeks, and Plato in particular, had no
algebra. All mathematical relationships were expressed geometrically and
diagrammatically.

3) Not sure what the overall conclusion is supposed to be.

Quick reference apology: As this book is being handed out, I’d like to remind
the readers that there may be a few misnomers, what with the ‘Gargantuan’
undertaking of it all…

To paraphrase ‘Berkeley’ for a moment:
a. Out of Sight = Out of Mind

Or as Rabbi Laemmle would say, “thanks for clearing that one up.”

CLAY MILBURN (Rock and Roll Artist’s)

“Warning: You Snooze You Lose”

CAUTION: Let us go for Tolerant Idealism

Or as Schopenhauer might put things: ‘The Anti-Smoke is All Around Us…”


Anyway, for an “un-church” as Alpha-Omega Institute states to form, it must at
least have some bearing in Biblical Text…

I feel that the only approach to humanism in the Ways of the Written Bible, are
ECUMENICAL and ECCLESIASTICAL

1. Contrition—“I read in the News that Edward Kennedy past today…for this
historical moment I will maintain the Kennedy’s in prayer daily…”
2. Restitution—“To make up for past crimes, one must give in acts of Charity…”
3. Constitution—“An Orthodox message to fend off ‘caustic thinking.’”
4. ‘Indulgences’ make it all go away

SLOOP JOHN B—“This is the worst trip, I’ve ever been on” BEACH BOYS

I think I found a way to solve the riddle of PLATO'S ACADEMY IN BOOK 8

HOW TO BUILD A MEGAPOLIS in a SIMULATED CITY

Begin...End

1. constitution
2. dissolution
3. agriculture
4. livestock
5. fertility and sterility
6. CLEAR MIND AND CLEAR BODY
7. Childbirth (guarantees the infinite)
8. Birth is determined by # a # squared or cubed
i.e. 2 (squared) = 4....3 (to the third power) = 27


9. obtain intervals
(1,...,3,...,5,...) an odd interval

10. four terms same and difference
(addition) (subtraction)

waxing and waning

(multiply) and (divide)

11. Add a base # when proven
a=b + (1/3 c) + 5 (to the third power) =

harmony one harmony two

d e

= 100th power or d*e to the hundredth power

12. 100 numbers (i.e. 100 films)

100m (squared) when 'real' or 'rational' #'s

or imagine a diameter without fractions on a square
(each side is less than the most privileged space)

with irrational diameters (-1) + (0)

13. 3 (to the four-hundredth power) will equal 27 (to the 10 millionth power) in
good births of children

14. Never add chemicals that don't mix

15. Learn the power of unwavering music at an early age

16. train your athletes

17. PREPARE YOUR 'SWORDS'

(blacksmith)
GOLD, SILVER, BRASS and IRON
(dissimilar, inequality, irregularity and war-time)
THE FOUR MOST PRECIOUS
'gems'

Mingle them with above equations for strength (IN REVERSE)

WITTGENSTEIN: PROVEN QUERY

Answer key to Plato's RIDDLE
* a (squared) times a (squared) = a (quadrangle)
and comprehend distance (a, b, c)

a= height b= width
c= 1 height to 2 depth =width

I. elements (add to things they like)
(subtract that that don't mix)

PYTHAGOREAN THEOREM
a (squared) + b (squared) = c (squared)

if the combined cube of numbers herein
(3 cubed + 4 cubed + 5 cubed)= 216 (food digestive cycle)

so if the base = 216

216 times 1/2 = 3 divided by 216= 72 then 5 divided by 72 =14.4 (when yoked to
five)

14.4 times 3= 43.2

43.2=

harmony a + harmony b

43.2 times 3 = 129.6
b=3 times 1 plus 1/3

or if 3 X 4/3 =4 X 3

then 12 times five = 60

60 times 60 (cubed)=12,960,000

PROVEN QUERY

12, 960, 000

also =
(3 times 4 times 5) (to the fourth power)

comprehend two rules of random geometry
harmony a and harmony b

(i.e. money priorities)

figure one 4/3600=900

900 (quadrangle) is like 2400 (squared) times 1350 (squared)

12,960,000 is multiplied or added to (next)

remember the square is 3600 in diameter

# a=2 (to the hundredth power) and b= 2 (to the hundredth power)

also rational diameter of 5=7
because diameter of a square with sides of 5 units is the square root of 50
or aprox=7

closest integer (7 times 7 = 49)

100 squares of diameter of 5

then is 100 times 7 times 7 = 4900

4900 - 100= 4800

PLATO'S MATH KEY

PROVEN QUERY

Yours, in the ACADEMY, more notes later,

Aaron T. Sheley



PARADISE FAUST
ABSTRACT MODEL FOR PUBLISHER
Synopsis—
As Dante Alighieri struggles to replace art and religion with poetics, he relies
on no propaganda—no one will ever know why in his version of Purgatorio certain
people wound up there for no feasible reason. Paradise Faust’s irreplaceable
journey illuminates the idea that Dante works on a need to know basis, and at
the conclusion, the reason people wind up where people wind up in some author’s
strange vision of the ethereal plane of a confusing but funny afterlife—is
better left unsaid—or is it?





















FOREWORD by JON WAGNER:

In the icy days of our wintery economy, Aaron Sheley, the up and coming author
extends his research into the Great Books of the Western World and the canon of
German Expressionistic Cinema (Merging the parts of Dante Alighieri’s masterwork
Purgatory, fragments of John Milton’s Paradise Lost and, of course, the German
Expressionist version of Goethe’s Faust—directed by F.W. Murnau.) While style,
form and content are achieved through his ideas—his key substance goes deeper
than meaning, due to a free play of signs and signifiers. While his novel
Paradise Faust is a maze of linguistic codes, I find it as a blessing of grace
that he wishes to sustain life on the Planet Earth for eternity by creating a
limbo so extraordinary, that people will live for the moment, rather than for
some absurd version of the afterlife that may or may not exist. I find his novel
to be a clear cut pathway to achieving immortality through writing that good and
evil has always shared. Interestingly enough, there is no hidden meaning, no
agenda, just an infinite passion of diction to topple over Quixotic resolutions
that are bringing are bringing our society to decay.
As Dante (historically and in this book) prefers to play tricks to his own
accord, albeit in a writerly fashion, in order to interject enlightenment to the
rough housing of the Middle Ages, Aaron steals ideas to find a way to sustain
life on Planet Earth, as the uncertainty of the afterlife has plagued religion
for generations. Indeed there is no way around the fun and games he establishes.
The final two parts the book, stir up emotions in a way that is different from
the first three parts; The final two parts of the book, stir up emotions in a
way that is different from three parts; The first three parts mainly establish
what an after-life could be (in a world without metaphysics) while the novel
changes in Part Four from the Grand Narrative to a simple version of the after-life, with Buddhist implications, and a use of initials that remain unknown--Aaron
extends desire beyond reality. And finally the Fifth Part is in Latin and
therefore the language itself is not dead, but rather undead in a sense,
whichever the reader prefers. While a few words conjugated in a Spanish style
(Dante’s preference being Italian), let the words flow over you, dear readers,
musically. The author’s intent is to save our world from its own corrupt
poverty, while giving us the freedom to err, which we all know is human.

--Jon Nelson Wagner Ph. D. University of Southern California—Media Theorist
(Professor of Writing—Critical Studies Graduate School at California Institute
of the Arts/Professor of Film Theories at University of Southern
California)—June 21st, 2009

























PARADISE FAUST
An Underground Experimental Novel
Written By Aaron Sheley







Dedicated to Homer, Horace, Ovid and Lucan
















Apology
While there really may be a Purgatory, and it is in imagination quite close to
that of Dante’s viewpoint on the matter, I am adding this writing as not to
revise the classic—only to provide merely a supplement. Furthermore, PART FOUR
may not genuflect to Purgatory in the way the rest of the story flows.
Nonetheless, it is imperative to recall THE SOUND AND THE FURY when
transitioning from tale to tale. As for PART FIVE, you really must sing along,
or you will miss all the fun.

“Trust in me and fall as well.”
--Tool

“You believe in the one God—that is creditable enough, but the demons have the
same belief, and they tremble with fear.”
--The New Testament


PART ONE
PARADISE FAUST

Dante awakens from a beautiful song of Latin and continues down the corridors,
which while they change in illusory ways, he is never quite sure if they are
moving to the left or right—or according to an invisible or visible law that
governs the nature of his surroundings. He notices certain cracks in a painting
filled with clouds and angels blowing trumpets. Below the clouds is a man in a
red tunic that holds a horn in his mouth. A combination of ephemeral beings
slope around the edges of sorrowful men locked in the towers. Dante recognizes
the sadness of a figure in the middle of the painting and a beam of sunlight
moves to reveal this image as not a deity or spirit but a saint clad in a robe,
without any hair except around the rims of his head.

Dante thinks to himself, “It was this icon in the tomb of Christ that allowed me
to remember that while my dreams and visions had placed my own life beneath the
lonely depths of eternity, the famines, plagues and holocausts were tyrannizing
the thoughts of the troubled peasants I had walked away from and fallen like a
drunkard into conformity—The saint’s image gave me comfort and was a reminder
that though I may be responsible for the very plagues unleashed on the world, he
would take them as a peace offering into the kingdom. The gifts of eternal
offering were given from his troubled heart, not as a sympathetic approach for
divination or symbol to regain consciousness. Instead, he was somehow going to
take care of his longings without worrying which method or rite was the most
complete absolution—While Heaven beyond reminded this saint his name in the book
of life, his position would be fulfilled if he worked on his own confusion.”

Virgil smashes through a wall and the cracks in the painting disappear.

Virgil explains to his pupil, “Perhaps the confusion in these spheres is only
ascertained in your poetry—yet do you not believe that the kingdom of God will
restore you without so much suffering?”

Dante replies, “My master, I have made us suffer—The plagues are upon us not
because we have done wrong but because we are going to die soon.”

Dante now alone for some reason, thinks aloud, “Another hallway, another chasm.
Twists and turns, no signs of life except the weak that would accept the ways of
virtue we instill in them. I do not believe that if they do not follow, they
will burn. For those perfected, fear not God, nor papacy, though I will go on up
or down—Pain will guide me when nothing is left—“

Dante rounds a turn in Christ’s lair of catacombs, and is not shaken by heresies
above or below, which hide their anguish in pictograms that rapidly change all
over the splinters of another painting. Orgies of King Solomon, featuring 3000
concubines and 5000 maidens all in an act of overwhelming transgressive
pleasure. Demons demolish each other in attempt to enter the vanishing picture.
Dante lingers in the tomb and ghosts evaporate, dematerializing, as well as the
painting. The walls begin to shrink and Dante notices his own hand beginning to
disassemble into piecemeal. Boils form on his arms and he sees a flash image of
Virgil like a red energy of satanic magic.

Dante thinks to himself, “Whether time did move backward, the plague was
consuming my master as it also befell on the soles of my feet—that did painfully
nail the bloods of the underworld, impatient in their traveling and longing of
another passageway.”

Dante removes a few coins from his jacket and tosses them through an appearing
cage—a disease that would consume the future Earth of the realm of maggots
(always devouring the corpses). Thus Dante feels a bit uneasy about his
diminishing state and is under pressure. He still does not fear the earthquake
at present. His overwhelming and troubling thoughts of the breaking apart of the
kingdom of Divine Passages, guarantees his safety, while he feels assurance of
demise. A ledge on a wall of the tomb is without a scratch or marking and he
sits down on the stone and again relieves his partial fears with an assured
prayer to God.

Dante prays, “God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit—Though I will
stumble, I will not fall, for the Lord is with me. Amen.”

Now Virgil appears in a snake-like vampire form about to grab Dante by the neck.
However, he realizes that a Chinese astrological clock on the wall contains
patterns of what are like atoms splitting.

Virgil slithers and questions, “Isn’t it interesting how somehow time moves
backwards when we meet up?”

Dante answers, “I know of your ways. Did you not know that in ancient texts
properties like water and earth harmonize in a vertical line, while fire and
lightning emerge along a horizontal path?”

Virgil takes a breath of air and says, “Yes, well don’t you think if you moved
along from that path altogether and strayed from a constant curve on like a
grid, then you would perceive the anachronistic?”

Dante is lost in thought, “I scurried along the way from the viper and the pages
of a book marked with a pentagram began to block my path!”

A large book, barely visible, disappears into a puff of smoke. A stream of
flowing water slides down a staircase, descending. Dante picks up a staff and it
immediately becomes a sword in his hands. He dangles the blade into the light of
a candle and prisms reflect through the crystalline. From around the side of the
wall, the hiss of an insidious serpent reveals another strange monster (with
tentacles, no less.) It lunges for Dante and hisses at him.

He thrusts his blade toward the figure. But the dragon creature is already
entering straight into Dante’s heart, testing him for fear. Dante reacts by
reaching into his pouch, removing a scroll, and reading to himself.

Dante’s voice echoes as he reads, “The ram from Colchis named Jason from the
Isle is power to avenge the wrongs of antiquity. Remain hidden, I will take care
of your problems.”

Dante continues to speak to thin air, “Worry not, for if anyone had anything to
do with the powers above, literally watching out while we visited the Old Mage,
then the shaman will warn us of shortcomings, perhaps as a method to incite the
recess of humanity’s end.”

The world above this cavern shrieks with terror and Dante feels pressure on his
chest, not knowing whether he can take a deep breath.

A voice from around the chamber whispers into Dante’s ear from behind.

Here is an example of what the voice says:
“The object of continuing is not even structuring itself in coherence. Will
Europe suffer for any reason?”

Dante is now at a castle wall, which opens up upon a side view of a beach with
waves beating the shore.

A floating spirit drifts through the wind and passes by Dante, giving off
recognition of an earlier time in life when both were on their way in the other
direction. The ghost delivers a knapsack of tobacco in exchange for Dante’s two
pieces of silver.

The ghost vanishes.

Dante talks to himself, “Feeling relieved that it had nothing to do with a
nervousness within, but rather a distant hope that the distance ahead would
require confidence, stamina and endurance.”

Dante flips over his head, while adjusting his cloak. Then he climbs a rope
until he is at a ledge with an opening in the tower’s wall. Four young goddess
maidens are draped in fine linens of blue and red cloth. The twisting and
turning on a large bed in the middle of the room, beckons the thinker forward,
as the women wave their fingers seductive. In fact, the women pull Dante forward
and by his arms he is dragged into their oracular pile of bodies, all glazing
with dripping sweat. They drip ointments and spread them on each other while
removing their garments and unbuttoning Dante’s belt. The four goddesses emerge
into one in the image of Aphrodite, shaped with perfect curves on a thin body,
hair piling over her breasts. She rubs against Dante and he puts his head below
her knees to give her oral sex. She slowly develops into a lustful rage of
ecstatic orgasm and passes out on Dante. The goddess transports off in a beam
from the sky.

Dante shrugs his shoulders and looks at his breath in the wind. He feels
troubled and ashamed at the sexual event that took place, but also sighs in
relief when he realizes how it came together.

A virgin in a white dress enters the room and says, “It is yours.” Enveloping
her is a mysterious ambience, which glows from her entity. The light beam takes
her back to the center.

Dante thinks, “I knew if the crusaders began to go war above ground, years
before the plague hit, they would involve themselves in a transformation of
presence. However, the underworld of spirits lost, enacted crimes alike, upon
the twisted minds of the haunted Inquisition.”

Dante releases his feelings of fear, discovering a map unscrolling across a wall
of hanging victims of peasants , as well as a witch burning in a fire, waving
her arms about as the flames devour her flesh and rip into her muscular
tissue…charring through into her skeleton. Her eyes were a steady gaze fixing on
the window of this chamber. And an angry face appears in the blood red moon.

Dante speaks to the witch in the scroll, “Will I ever see you again?”

The voice of a shrill pitched sufferer deepens into a harsh, breathy
abomination, inciting another earthquake below. Maggots crawl on her corpse as
the fire is smoldering out.

She exclaims, “HAVE YOU NOT OBSERVED THE DECEPTION OF WHICH YOU HAVE PARTAKEN?”

Dante examines the witch and replies, “Of your oblivion is your own affair.
Partake of judgment and the flames will awaken you from meditation!”

The witch does not take this lightly in her screaming tone of voice that
exclaims, “DO NOT ANSWER ME IN RIDDLES OF DESPAIR!”

Dante calmly explains himself, “There will be a witch more powerful than you.
Her name, Jezebel, and she will be thrown from rocks by a pack of savage
wolf-hounds. Because you suffer, ten Satan worshippers of the blood-drinking
coven will be given back into their ancestry.”

Flames go out, changing into wispy rats, which flutter down the stake, eating a
small remainder of the witch, who returns to the atmosphere as dust particles,
all disappearing in a howling scream.

One of many forms of an evil presence assimilates…it is Diablo!

Diablo snarls, “How do we know each other, Dante?”

Dante, worrying a bit, explains, “You could just be an image of a bad dream that
was brought on by unconscious illusions during the movements of your childhood
origins. For this reason, you are deceived by your own useless thoughts.”

Diablo is all the more furious in reply, “I will lead the people to burn all the
books ever written!”

Dante returns in mumbling chatter, “Well, let’s just hope a few people know how
to memorize exact texts of actual written words to recite them orally. Better
than your useless fear tactics.”

Dante motions closer to the red hot eyes within other eyes, continuing his
confusing speech, “Because of eagerness to uncover what is already written will
lead to your assassin. As if you had any connections with that. Because you have
not seen, you have been made blind to truth and because you cannot hear, you
have been made deaf.”

Diablo laughs and continues his own sermon, “There are versions where nothing
good comes of this. It ends here. The grail is captured by the heretics of
levitation, and all is vanquished as the holy cup is filled with urination and
given back to the mother of Christ!”

Dante tries sarcasm, “ There are at least two versions to every story. I’m sure
yours is the right one.”

Diablo growls, “Pegasus is not going to swoop down and save you…but the flying
horse may fuck you in the ass!”

Dante speaks quietly, “You finally end, people go on…”

Diablo snorts, “Promise me an eternity of pain by publishing this.”

Dante is finally so afraid that he prays while addressing the diabolical,
inexplicable Diablo, “I call to the Father, Son, and Hoy Spirit that you never
return. You must have a memory programmed as early as the rest of us—lest not
forget—Babylon’s electricity formed you. Who plugged you in on that space opera?
Are you in every hex and spell? Do you not know that there are entities far
worse in human, god and demonic fabric? Of course, the fabric of your origin,
intensifies the ultimate nature of your suicidal whims.”

The ground begins to shake and strange rumblings of an imperfect harmony fills a
room, in which an idol with the half-head of Buddha and half-head of Shiva, with
glowing eyes, stares at Dante in the face.

Dante speaks to the idol, “Because you exist, your people will suffer. Upon
childbirth they will receive intoxication from vials of impure goat’s blood.
They will be driven mad by these drippings of urine onto the pentagrams of your
bride’s pillow.”

The idol, without moving, answers this, “How dare you, in your own thoughts,
accuse me of the destruction of time itself!”

Dante scratches his head, and without much logic, is in speech again, “I’m sure
these signs have been crossed before. But are you willing to rip open your chest
and feed it to a carcass of mutilated flesh? Setting it ablaze, would you then
consume the blood of your own first born, mingling it with the bloods of the
beastly sacrilege on an altar that never forgives?”

The idol is in confusion, but answers, “Turn on your mind so you may see the
nature of our otherness, which will propel you away from unholiness and
defamation of the cross, eliminating servitude under dominion of mind slavery.”

The walls in the background fade away and behind them an altar appears in the
sky where fleshy clouds shape like an upside down star. Horns of a goat shape
into the star, ripping a hole through the flesh-like nature of the cloud.

Dante rambles, “In any appearance you must abominate yourself throughout
histories pages. Never will anyone see that you are carefully engraving every
bit of your being in each waking second of moments of history.”

The cloudy goat appears dumfounded.

Dante continues, “If you can use this information to deceive people into
thinking one side is a holy quest for a cup and the other is to instigate the
apocalypse of a race of people, then the Messiah would be the last being you
would have to kill.”

In the clouds is a very attractive man-demon hybrid, Lucifer, who rises in the
sky.

Lucifer is weirder in speech than Diablo, “Why do you see the women you rape,
the children you beat and the spears through their souls?”

Dante gives no answer and Lucifer exits the sky. Just then, Dante turns to
examine a vision of a hand on a wall, writing steadily.

The hand writes, “The exaltation of nations boasts your eternal glory to the
kingdom of God forever. You are invited to the highest altar in which you shall
take your seat as the highest angel on a throne of the Queen of Heaven, reigning
over all creatures.”

Dante is, as per usual, in thought, “There you shall divide up your shares of
power into the twelve ruling empires of the world. These nations shall be
drained of their valuables by the low percentage in power in increasing amounts,
until nothing is left but the four, then three…”

Virgil wakes up from his coma and explains angrily, “You have once again made
yourself too revealing to the mirror—it speaks to you when you speak to it and
you will feel pin pricks on your penis when you discover the secrets of the
mirror. Will you allow yourself to be rendered impotent from lustful
activities?”

Diablo, from a nearby room, cannot help but to join in at this point. So he
enters and growls, “Heaven moved me and with that I come for what we have
tricked you into: Losing your entire sight of Christ. BLASHPEME THE HOLY
SPIRIT’S NAME HERE!”

As the events are unfolding, the hand on the wall etches writing in blood before
Dante’s eyes.

The hand writes, “There are all peoples of outside order here in descending
desire of origin. When they fuck you in the night, succumb to them.”

A horde of demons squawk in their own two cents, “Thank you for giving us full
access to all domains. I saw your irremovable seal long ago cheater. Ooh! Don’t
make me so obvious.”

Dante laughs at the overwhelming nature of this onslaught and jokes accordingly,
“I just hope you all aren’t as unfashionably late as I am.”

The apparitions evaporate for a time and Dante, alone at last, jots down his
thoughts that continue to echo around in his head:
“Our father in heaven, not because circumcised, but out of the greater love you
have for your creation on high, praise be your name and worthiness from every
creature, as it is appropriate to render thanks to your sweet charity. Thy
kingdom come and the peace of thy kingdom, because we cannot attain it of
ourselves, for all of our ingenuity. As of their own freewill, your angels make
sacrifice to you, singing Hallelujah, so may men also of their freewill. Give us
this day our daily manna, without which, through the roughness of this desert,
he who tries hardest to advance, goes backward. And as we forgive everyone the
evil that we have suffered, may you pardon us graciously, without regard to our
self-serving merits. Do not put our virtue to the test with the old adversary,
as it is not easily overcome. This prayer we no longer pray for ourselves, but
for those in need. This prayer, dear Lord, we no longer pray for ourselves, but
for those in need.”

Then, for good measure, Dante prays, “I pray for safe passage and if there is a
dark victory, this too will be up to your judgment. Thank you, Son of Man.”

A precipice vomits the demonic opium, inducing psychotic visions to cover up the
apocalyptic plague of vapors from raining sewage, which are a stain on the
streets above.

Dante realizes that he has been rounding so many doors that lead to dead ends
and detours of his quest that are without virtue. He does remember that in his
parchment is a map. As he undoes the rope from another scroll, he glances at a
territory in which a monk ties ropes around Jesus, dragging his corpse away.
Thus, using a weight and measure scale he finds in his gunny sack, Dante traces
a line with a geometrical compass through the heart of Christ. Constellations
appear near the compass arc, in the topmost region of this most peculiar map.
After sketching a diagram in his journal, he continues onward.

Dante leans against a wall from exhaustion and a rotating wheel next to him
turns its locks slightly to the right. A young brunette girl in a blue tunic
with a belt enters the room.

The child speaks, “If inequity and inequality burden you in this endless
tower-like tomb, do not be afraid, as I will remember your trials lest you
forget the wildness of man’s lust for knowledge, while the only requirement for
you is that you ascertain the fear of God. Many trials yet remain and of the
deception of the burial of the Son of Man—we’ll see to it that the angels will
place ointments on his shroud. Circuitous pathways are equal in deception: left
is straight and right will lead you in circles. If the road is steep, how do you
not know if you are descending? Because of Adam’s temptation of the serpent’s
order, his garments will he wear in toil. Therefore hurry through this
serpentine maze, for there is no center.”

Dante is about to speak in reply yet is muddled by other confusing thoughts from
the previous night’s encounter. He coughs and feels his head, dizzy from the
overwhelming spiritual presence of his Lord and Master.

Dante thinks to himself, narrating his predicament, “At this moment there is no
assurance whether Satan is God or Heaven is Hell. The concepts rearrange
themselves so often in the various parchments of antiquity that such hard claims
either way are impossible to prove. In order for paradise to be complete, the
Son of Man endures torture. Upon any thoughts of revoking the Holy Spirit—the
demons in the tomb are only more deceived by claiming a totalitarian existence
with authorial rights. In these days above us, impotence and false wars—like the
threat of death which I first had on Good Friday, all still stabs me like a
spear in my side. For when he held his hands to me, I felt the holes of the
piercings and that is why I am now locked up.”

Continuing with his gear, treading down the halls, Dante observes quietness and
emptiness—no voices or talismans of distraction. The merciless path through and
around the tunnels of the ever changing mountainous underground, leads Dante to
fear that during his quiet progression he is a long way from the end.

In the meantime, Virgil catches up and puts his arm around Dante, patting him on
the back.

Virgil speaks out, “Fear not that rabble of yesteryear, nor false trials of an
oracles advent…remember: narrow is the gate and there are few who enter. I have
made the image of math, arts and sciences of the ancients profane to you in your
mind so that you may complete this quest without burden of future, infinite
possible worlds…No theories will be of cosmic origin, nor the things you ever
want or believe to want will be on record.

Virgil hears a disturbance down the hall and walks off to see what it is. Just
ahead is a dying man in the corridor suffering from the plague. The man is
hardly breathing under his wraps of torn garments. He is beaten and lying in the
tomb. Dante crouches and observes the victim, popping a cork off of a vial of
wine and holding the man’s head up to deliver him a few drops. Dante feeds the
sufferer a tablet of unleavened bread and the man’s body writhes and then
vanishes from the tomb. Dante crosses himself and continues onward feeling that
the center is not far off.

Dante sighs, “What a relief.”

A gentleman in a sage’s robe awaits Dante at the end of the hall, smiling at
him.

The gentleman speaks, “Hello my troubled stranger.”

Dante returns the greeting, “Hello fine sir—I see that you are without many
imperfections.”

In a low voice, the gentleman explains, “Sins in my mind create sins in the
world and I am not responsible for these fantasies, son—For ice will break when
you tread on it and kingdoms will rise and fall—Many disguised men with signs of
the devil will come in my name—Be not deceived, for this is envy of a construct
that we are now involved in. It is a mere object lesson. If you have thought
there to be any truth in the deceivers, allow only those haunted by the lies to
believe them to the fullest.”

Dante wonders aloud, “This is for me to allow?”

The gentleman answers, “Well, my friend, there is an enlightenment that they are
not ready for.”

Dante is blessed by an actual representation of this kind mentor and bows to the
man, who then smiles.

The gentleman continues, “I am not asking for your submission, for the few of us
are already in submission—continue on this trek and be slow to forgive those
that have concealed our words.”

Dante nods and passes on down the hall. He looks into a chamber at a young boy
quietly reading his textbooks while lights from the outer world fade around. The
boy prays in whispers that he is troubled by much of what he has been hearing
and worries for the safety of his father.

Dante watches the boy that places a turban over his head and relaxes in the
cell. The boy is comforted by a presence only he can hear.

Dante smiles and continues down the hallway. He arrives in a room to the south
of the room he was in prior, not quite sure how the directions of his internal
voices and visions lead him. In the room, a wooden desk sits alone. Dante
approaches the desk and it is just an ordinary piece of wood. Curious as to its
contents inside, he touches the handle to open it and it is locked. Dante
rummages through his pockets to find a key—slightly worrying that he may have
lost it. He tries to open the desk again and it still will not open. He becomes
frustrated.

Dante prays, “Please God, I want to see its contents—Why won’t you let me? Why
can’t I see it? Please unlock this for me God, please. I DON’T WANT TO DIE
HERE!”

Upon receiving no answer, he slams his hand on the desk and continues to the
next room.

In the room there is a square mirror that reflects only Dante’s image. He looks
at himself and while he cannot comprehend the image of his own material physical
existence in this state, he observes. His guilt and fears trouble him but he
feels a stillness of the presence of being. He takes a deep breath realizing the
illusions before and after this point were never of any concern. The presence of
his soul and the faith he lives are reaffirmed as he gently rubs a crucifix on a
chain around his neck. He tucks it under his shirt and takes another deep
breath. After noticing a small font of purified water, he dips his handkerchief
into it and gently touches the cloth to his forehead, wiping his brow. He puts
both hands in the water and splashes his eyes, wiping his face off. He turns and
paces down the hallway.

While he is treading along, he thinks, “That spirit who waits to repent, right
to the end of his days, will most likely remain below the surface and will not
ascend. Unless good prayers come to his assistance, and until he has spent as
much time in the dark place as he lived in the light, will he see the day again?
But will actions make him free of confines?”

Out of nowhere, an image of the Greek deity, Zeus, bellows hauntingly, “Because
you have thirsted for blood, I will fill you with blood! My people were put to
flight, after the death of the centaur. Following the tunes of Pan into the
lusts of bad intentions, Socrates—a persecutor of the pagans that have now
become common witches and warlocks—was given the vial of Hemlock. All this for
questioning the nature of reality, which you’ll see in the future to be a
massive influence on philosophy. Warning! Do not believe in mysticism over
reason, wanderer.”

Dante is envisioning the shores of Troy for a time, and then, without anything
initiating the sudden presence, three demons flutter around a beat up wooden
idol.

One of the demons causes Zeus to leave through an enigmatic story:
“Offerings to a lost soul in exchange for eternal torture in the next life—we
gave the fool a bride of the finest beauty. When delivering the woman, we offer
him an empire, for access to the Heavens again. The demon god that guides us
will lie havoc through the winds of Eros’ death. Thereby we demons will develop
Satan’s wrath over all empires as they rebuke their positions as defenders of
the kingdom. Like a war of the original temptation, occurring as ships travel in
the sky to what remains of your castle in the sacred realms where you were
slain. After plundering the temple and raping the virgins, we arrive to face the
Lord in our ancient Babylonian constructs that pose as his greatest threat. As
the remains of the cities collapsed after the crucifixion, it was Zeus
acceptance of this gift of a foreign idol that caused demise. Long live Baal,
the subsumer, keeper of the poles of Asura upon the mount of the Golden Calf
where the overlords craft a plot to sacrifice children. Oh Sun God of horns and
bloody teeth, pour riches and fertility into our vessels. The demons of the West
and East will have a showdown in the forms of all the people that are possessed.
It is this final war that does distract Zeus from his oracle, while we plot to
put an end to the future history of mankind. There are very few of the ancients
that accept true belief in the supposed messiah, and after his murder, the
believer’s find their kingdoms plundered by the madness of false beliefs.”

Dante finds the story interesting, remembering that the entities which are given
over to evil, could be the very same that had killed logic and reason by
poisoning Socrates cup. Dante read somewhere that the abomination of the blood
of Baal began with a promise from the children of Babylon to repay money to the
king and queen for stealing their wives and children.
In successive delusions, the followers of the Antichrists still think their
hypnotists approach Satan’s altar to revitalize the old belief so their master
can steal everything for himself. Then writers were lead to a belief that an
explosion of the cosmos formed layers of mass and dust particles that enter at
the origin of time and form underwater atoms splitting into new atoms, crawling
onto land, growing legs on their own to form walking serpents that premeditative
impulses do they send to respond with a strange force of false deities, which
would obliterate the true God of the Hebrews, which were all at play in an
infinite universe. Dante thinks of this as a generality of creation, as valid as
it may be, but knows of a man that will be born in the last days, leading many
to controlled logic and reason that is not going to play into the lies of the
tempter. Would all nature worshipers become possessed by graven images? No,
thinks Dante, hardly. Or? Either/or! Dante visualizes a possible world where the
serpents and writhing goddesses of the oracle are spawning to continually
falsify texts, which would eventually deny a teleological understanding of the
phenomenology of splitting cells. Although he is not quite sure what all of this
means!

Dante’s loose train of thought shifts to the plot to overthrow Moses via Hades,
which sought to stop him at birth. Isis, Osiris, Horus, in their anthropomorphic
images subconsciously manipulate Pharaoh’s challenge to the divine nature, which
is of equality, not slavery.

Dante speaks to the demons, which could have very well been influencing his
vulnerable thoughts, “I’m sure there are more wicked things than you that have
turned away the believers of Pythagoras’ reincarnation. What is relevant now is
to continue this catechism in Christ’s tomb. For he is the way, the truth and
the life. No man shall come to the father except through him.”

The demons laugh and dance off into the night.

Dante continues up a long shaft to watch the demons penetrate a nearby planet,
seducing its inhabitants to a promise of purity and perfection. It reminds him
of when Eve was formed from Adam (the first human). Although there is a
forbidden tree of knowledge, there is a tree of life which all will partake in
the next step of true evolution, according to Dante’s current wave of thought.

Dante hears a whisper from his Lord, which says to him, “Be still and know that
I am God.”

Dante is now rounding the edge of the mountain and the Sun’s course has been
spinning to distort the traveler’s preoccupied mind. When he feels cloudy by all
the books that have yet to be written, he notices an angel illustrating an
object of desire in the temple of Babylon—an apparatus of a white light
projecting false realities. Beguilement sets in to confuse past and future
generations into finding the relative truths.

Dante thinks while his thoughts become words of prayer, “I can’t help but to
laugh at that, which I am unafraid of, though remembering the sacramental wine
from earlier, helps to redeem the witches that will want to journey to Paradise
with me! Of course, I am well accustomed to the admonitions of mind control that
works through materialistic allures. And then I begin to see again that vision
of a false deity, dressed in white, wearing an upside down cross and some kind
of symbols of Zoroastrian lore, all shrouded in a bright light. He spreads his
wings exclaiming, ‘Come: the steps are close by here and now you will find it
gets easier from here to climb.’ I know that this is a golden opportunity.
Perhaps I too will earn wings if I do what you say.”

The angel of light leads Dante to a ledge where there is a great canyon and an
apparition of a snow-globe behind it, containing the treasures of Babylon.

Goddesses begin to chant, “The truth of true spirituality is to be
pristine—Cleanliness is Godliness.”

Dante thinks to himself, “I notice the coldness of my hands and think, well, if
I hadn’t have had that wine, my body temperature might not have dropped.”

Now, of all things, the Antichrist arrives and seductively whispers, “If I can’t
get to you through your fears or inventions or mythologies than I will play a
memory game with you—Do you remember what the Son of God said to me when I
tempted him?”

Dante hiccups and thinks aloud, “Well, when you told him he could have the
kingdoms and riches of the world, he said to serve only the Lord. When you told
him that the stones around him would feed him, he said that the word of the Lord
is everlasting nourishment. And when you told him to take a leap from a cliff,
quoting him from his own scripture that the angels would catch him, he quoted
his own scripture: ‘Thou shalt not put the Lord thy God to a test.’

The Antichrist snickers, “Yes, Dante, but you are not worthy of the Lord’s true
tests are you?”

As the Antichrist leaves, Dante’s thoughts are as follows:
“I suppose I’ll just head up to the next level of metamorphosis. I’ll do what
people do when they walk in the presence of the kingdom, which is to keep strong
faith. I do feel dizzy from that encounter, yet for once, I must be doing
something right.”

A few moments later, Dante rejoins Virgil to walk up the next few steps of the
tower. The steps lead to a brick wall that immediately vanishes and becomes a
desert.

Dante’s thoughts narrate the sight before him, “In the midst of the desert, I
see an image of myself, in confusion and suffering exhaustion. My fear of the
lack of romance in my life enters intensification here, due to all my lost dear
ones—but even prayer and scripture does not restore the love. I am unable to
marry in this state, and cannot even entertain carnal lust except in visions.
Alone on the ground, holding a bottle of deadly poison—taking a few swallows to
bring about suicide—I remember what troubles me most: I left her after degrading
her father (not to mention her heavenly Father), shouting at him over the lusts
that will consume me until I die for real. I think what saves my life here, is
that Virgil is watching the vision, waiting to intervene.”

Virgil is angry in speech, “Why would you give up my poetry and offerings of
maidens, over some fat, ugly wench? Especially when you could have partaken of
the blood of the Antichrist!”

Dante answers timidly, “It’s hard to say, you see, the lusts of imagination
always tend to derail me. Also, Virgil, I must admit that hypnosis is strong
with you. However, as sorrowful as it is that I may have almost thrown myself
from a ledge—prevented by my fear of heights—it is even more sorrowful that I
actually drank poison. It just had to happen.”

Virgil is wicked in demeanor as he chants, “Oh Satan, I merge into your
form—Oracle be praised—to show this traveler that it is your power that leads
him to and from suicide!”

Dante hears and says, “Interesting Virgil, however, I have only ever felt the
presence of the poetics in you. I was knocking at death’s door. I thank God I’m
alive. Can you take credit for material you don’t know about?”

Virgil answers, “You got me there.”

As the vision comes to a close, a demon scoots across the desert shrieking, “THE
VENOM WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU!”

Dante takes Virgil aside and whispers, “Virgil, do you really believe this is
happening? Aren’t you a rationalist? Your book is not just a poetic tome from
the mystic’s oracle; it is, in contrast, a warning that if you select a mystery
beyond the tangible, you’ll invent your own predestination through fear.
Besides, only the objectivity of our destiny can be determined by the outcome. I
may fantasize about some idealist utopia or even a frightening cataclysm, but
this only means that I have not placed value in the object lessons of truth
seekers.”

At that moment, Virgil exits levitating sideways, while a particularly scary
demonic image of a red and black devil (with a noticeable missing tooth) stares
Dante in the face.

The demon proceeds with his wicked diatribe, “I am the Whore of Babylon—I am the
true love of your life—I am an altered perspective—You left your lover because
you could never give up the feeling of the next drunken binge; or the next
graven image; or the next hunk of meat that came your way! So don’t fuck with
me—You already bowed to your opposing Gods and if you think you can just
apologize to the fucking Messiah to get out of this, well, you can’t—Once you’re
hooked, you’re always hooked.”

Dante, glancing at Virgil for reassurance, responds, “The Messiah will never ask
me to give up drunkenness, I tell you. Just because I have fantasies about
finding love again or even being something I can’t be, means I actually think
that my mind alone will achieve satisfaction, at any rate. Why even tempt me
with things on my mind, when you can’t possibly know that you have to die of
yourself to love—though I have selfishness within. I love truth. I love the
lost. But to die of oneself does not mean suicide or blood pacts or dogma or an
ancient rite of passage. It just means to give up the distractions in your life,
focus on your friends and family—accept the illusion! Look, I realize there are
powers in this realm I’ll never understand. Money, fame and power are all very
enticing, right Virgil? But the fourth horseman in the equation is absolute
corruption.”

Virgil’s head contorts and he cries out untranslatable poetry to send the
demonic spirits back into the Inferno.

A friend of Virgil and Dante descends from behind a cavern wall. She is
Beatrice: a beautiful woman the travelers met longs ago. She prays, “Mary, pray
for us! Michael and Peter and all the saints. Lord hear our prayer!”

Dante, wanting to be alone, returns to a place in the ever-changing maze of
limbo that he recognizes.

Dante hears his own thoughts again, “It seems like we are all beggars, dying
outside of a mansion, waiting for a small crumb of food, and kept outdoors by
the gatekeeper.”

Virgil summons Dante back into the unending vortex, a place that never remains
the same place as it was before, hence the constant setting changes. Virgil and
Dante walk on the side of a precipice where they are both in fear of a long drop
to the bottom. Again among them, Beatrice quietly floats around with her color
changing gown, kisses Dante’s head and whispers, “Did you know that you can
speak to any being in the universe at any time!”

After Beatrice floats away, Dante and Virgil quickly converse.

Virgil starts, “Who has brought you of all people this far along—I know you of
all people will never come back once your free.”

Dante says, “Virgil, you are everything to me.”

A presence comes over Dante of confusion and fear, knowing there are greater and
worse things ahead. But he also realizes that his throat is sore from all of his
tobacco use, a little known fact about the peripatetic man in question.

Dante says the only thing that comes to mind (absurd as it is), “I’m glad there
will be rest in Paradise—my mortal feet can barely take this journey. In fact, I
think I have a nail in my left foot, or something.”

Virgil responds, “Well, I must say that if you really think God still loves you
after watching suffering in hell for eternity, than I suppose it is time to make
the ascension up the ladder to the end of this charade.”



PART TWO
CIRCLE OF DEATH

Dante and Virgil continue their trek in the serpentine lair of limbo. What sways
them to venture on is to figure out what separates them from the dire
revolutions and crisis in the forbidden realms above. Apparently the fog has
lifted from the dungeon and Virgil engages in further pronouncement of an odd
sort.

Virgil speaks, “I have made a discovery that might unsettle you quite a bit. You
see, the Papacy you so cherish, is currently involved in scandalous child
molestation and this will truly be the licentiousness that tears away the Son of
Man from your precious treasure vault.”

Dante mutters back at him, “This does trouble me a bit Virgil, for I am in
alliance with the very ministry that is full of hypocrisy, lies, and decimation
of unity, in order to bring about the reign of the Whore of Babylon—or the
Catholic church, as you may know it.”

Virgil recoils but catches on to Dante’s sarcasm. In reply to this he makes the
statement, “You are missing the idea—While your precious communion is tainted
with the vile blood of Passover’s unholiness, the plague continues to spread
without prejudice.”

Dante is nearly catatonic, but still able to say, “Well, I have not forgiven
myself of any heresy that the damned ghosts accuse me of to maintain my
excommunication.”

Virgil grows angry, “Then why don’t you just pull my pants down and suck my
cock—as all of your baptisms are condemning you, while the saved lust for wealth
and leisure.”

Dante feels a pain in his gut, yet still tries his ironic approach in speech,
“If I was a queer at birth perhaps, I would suck you dry. However, Virgil, don’t
forget, a deeper form of poetry lies outside of our drive for art forms
individual to our specific goals.”

Virgil spits while raving, “Well, what happens when you burn the unholy cross
and the saints smolder for your confessions?”

Dante feels a tiny bit more confident and answers, “Because, my Lord, only you
can acquit me for my sins of necrophilia and debauchery. You know as well as I
that whatever heresy you partake in, you follow to the grave.”

Virgil removes a lumpy piece of curled up gnarled flesh, pumping with blood
vessels in disfigurement. The bloating object sprays seminal fluids and shrieks.
Dante touches the monstrosity and with his middle finger, spreads the semen
across Virgil’s forehead. Virgil shudders and replaces the pumping flesh into
his cloak. He then drifts down a hall.

In the next room, a dragon consumes a small boy that bleeds all over his
clothing.

The dragon is aware of Dante and preempts the discussion saying, “You cannot
convince me that you’ll ever leave this domain.”

Dante replies while getting sensations of needles poking his arms, “I am not
trying to convince you of anything. You are not making this easy.”

The dragon scoffs, “Obviously you don’t love yourself.”

Dante nervously says, “Only God has that kind of love.”

The dragon’s eyes are now red, as it talks, “He’s not coming back.”

Dante refuses this statement in a short speech of his own, “He will. A house
divided cannot stand. Only by grace are we saved.”

The dragon is not impressed by such logic and accusatorily says, “None of the
witches you burned are coming back either. All 800 are absorbed into an ethereal
plane of non-existence.”

Dante reminds the dragon, “Nothing is impossible.”

The dragon lashes out while grumbling, “You are a glutton for punishment.”

Dante pops open a flask of wine and takes a sip while agreeing, “Damn right.”

As the dragon takes flight, noxious fumes emanate from its exhale, stopping
Dante from breathing until the smoke clears. Then he thinks back to the burning
witch he saw in the scroll.

Dante thinks, “I have not seen Christ face to face. This does not comfort me.”

On the floor another pagan symbol (a pentagram, no less) glows bright white and
a ghost of a druid named Kenneth materializes from out of it. The ghost is finds
it startling that Dante suffers.

Kenneth explains, “Dante, there is no one more powerful than you. Are you ready
for a transformation? Just know that because you defended my ghost in the
temple, you will receive my aid to battle those on either side, for there are
quite a few that want to see you die.”

Dante shrugs and comments, “I am thankful that of all the people to come to my
defense, a friendly devil worshiper offers help in this way.”

Kenneth exits and Virgil storms into the room.

Virgil hands Dante a decanter full of liquid and exclaims an order, “Drink this
poison.”

Dante spills the liquid on accident.

Virgil’s eyes close as he speaks in a foreign tongue, “Beth almi, sham mehath.
Your sins are forgiven. Arise.”

Dante is quick to negate this, quoting a scroll, “No spirit or sorcerer can ever
forgive me—Just know that in the lack of love I have for myself—it deepens my
love for you Virgil.”

Another vision is evident in Dante’s quest. A black knight is clad from head to
toe with a cylindrical visor and shield. With his mace and gauntlet, the knight
yanks Dante into a chamber behind a sliding wall. The wall closes in on him and
more fumes emit through vents causing the protagonist to go dizzy and limp, as
he stumbles to the floor holding his chest—Dante envisions a young ghost of a
friend crying out in pain and made up in female garb with holes all over his
skin. The gas chokes Dante and he grabs his parchment of Holy Scriptures placing
it under his head. He views a stain glass figure above of a scenario involving
two liars falling before the council of the apostles. Now the ghost of Dante’s
childhood friend shrieks in agony—

The ghost exclaims, “Dante, I know what they did to you and your fair maiden—I
won’t see you in Paradise until they give to you what you have asked for. In
fact, I won’t come back until I am assured that justice has been done.”

The dragon from before swoops into the scene and reassures, “I will find your
weakness and take you with me.”

Dante explains plainly, “You can’t hide your lying eyes.”

Virgil quickly acts by rushing into the chamber and drags Dante by the nape of
the neck to a window in the tower, which reveals a small circular spinning wheel
rotating in motion with slits cut around the spiral emitting just enough light
and shadow to create the false image of perceived motion. Virgil pats Dante on
the head and the two wanderers take a glance at the reflection of a different
form of Dante in despair near his bedside weakened from his fear of the impetus
driving desire onward.

Dante begins to describe his vision to his master, “I was crying and gnashing
teeth after a long brawl with the other mistress I told you of, which I had
begged the creator to return to me after writing volumes of poetry to prove my
love. However, even at that juncture, my insomnia had not subsided, with a
lethal dose of alcohol every night for a solid year. Knowing she was a slut
since day one had no effect on how much I wanted her back. I gave up everything
to be with her, yet I knew it was my entire fault—otherwise I’d be affronting
reality, which I do so often. However, this drivel is far too sympathetic and
dependent on someone else for proof that erotic love is death to the self,
joining the other. I suppose it was my misogyny that had gotten me where I was.
Knowing I had broken at least three commandments of the holy writ of
Moses—adultery, theft and idolatry—I feared that chastity was impending around
every corner. At that time I prayed, ‘God, I would give up everything to be with
her one more time; as I think a Christian should uphold a vow, as promises were
made before these dark events took place.’ Then, I felt a pain knock me over and
carry my body straight into the path of an oncoming futuristic device, which in
turn, would end my misery and fulfill the ultimatum of this past lover and her
unforgiving family. Having realized the people involved were too perfect to
accept my degeneration, the machine that rolled over me, carried me to this
afterlife, granting me peace for a few seconds. Then again, when I awoke still
alive, I received a letter that was full of emotion:

‘Dearest Dante, I am afraid that I love your old close friends far more than you
because they know how to respect women and refrain from alcohol. By the way, I
am having far better sex with multiple lovers and I can’t wait until you crawl
back to me with more painful desires to prove your love. I also want you to
repay all of the money I spent while together. You are not well endowed. I can’t
wait to watch your humility increase. I’ve already signed a legal document
demanding money, which criminalizes you if you do not act soon.’”

Dante laughs at the vision.

Virgil explains to him, “I’m surprised you didn’t cut short your own life. If
that had been more than a dream, I’m sure this current nightmare would be over.”


Dante sees a red spotted spider dangling from the wall and Virgil is terribly
uneasy at its presence. Dante plucks it off the web that it dangles around, and
he bites into the small venomous creature, swallowing half and offering the
remains to Virgil, who refuses to eat. Instead, Dante’s master touches the
spider, which returns it to normal, scampering away. Dante swallows hard and the
two journeyers are out of breath for the road ahead. They take a seat and gaze
up through a thatch in the chamber, watching the stars change shape.

After Dante feels a little relief, Virgil becomes inquisitive.

Virgil questions, “Why are you, the king’s loyal servant, becoming more poverty
stricken day after day? Will you not tell me?”

Dante is quick to answer, “At least I have enough to eat, with respect to the
butchers of the calf and the growth of the plants.”

Virgil tries another angle, “Do you not feel ill when you lie down on your bed
and dream of your future lovers, feeding you out of their hands any food you
request of them?”

Dante is honest in reply, “I like it better when I receive food in faithfulness,
rather than in lust for the flavor. However, if I am given two cakes, I will eat
them both without question.”

Dante travels up an incline in the tomb while Virgil follows, suspiciously
peering around to catch any prowlers that might distract them. After a few more
steps, Dante witnesses a large pile of human body parts that he recognizes as
kings of the past. Virgil opens his cloak, removes a staff, and waves it over
the pile of severed limbs. Thus the flesh is set ablaze by magic and quickly
decomposes in the flames.

Dante covers his nose at the wretched smell, but continues on—

Dante is lost within his thoughts, a state that accustoms him. He removes a
quill writing device, pricks his index finger for blood, and with the blood, he
writes on a blank parchment the thoughts that flood through his mind.

The writing is as follows:
“I felt the blessed St. Mary urging me to give up my futile burdens for the
salvation of all mankind. When her presence is upon me, I worry for her in this
dark passage. The virgin speaks to me, ‘Give unto me your blessing; You will
deliver the south of your homeland to the waters of restoration.’”

Virgil takes Dante’s hands and warms them up with his own, breathing on them for
heat. The two of them continue on.

Virgil makes a realization that is saddening, “The entrance of promised polis
will show you mercy. I fear less for you, I fear more for myself.”

Dante comments, “I was thinking the same thing. Which is to say, I fear less for
you than I do for myself. And with the entrance of the city so far ahead, I’ll
provide you Christ’s healing along the way—I only ask in return that your
demonic black art never leaves my side until the end.”

A twisted cherub with darkened eyes, a bright outline of intense glow and
ill-defined bodily form, speaks to the two prisoners of Purgatory.

The angelic figure whispers, “I lead you from the mouth of madness and will
bring you to the well of souls. And the covenant of all seals of Dante’s omen
will not be broken by forces of heaven, hell or any realm of the other.”

Dante asks the angel, “Then why are we deceived to believe that the final realm
is exclusive only to the covenant made by one God or another?”

The angel continues to whisper, now in simultaneous, multiple voices, “As you
have already made a covenant with the slaves of the Babylonians, the Goddesses
charge you with the responsibility of all the souls you have ever known.”

Virgil pushes Dante out of the way and speaks in private with the angel. Dante
tries to understand what they are saying, feeling uncomfortable by their
secrecy. Virgil waves a hand through the being and it vanishes.

Virgil motions for Dante to follow him and with a moment of reluctance, they
both continue side by side down a corridor that twists around to defy gravity.
Virgil floats along, while Dante limps from weariness. Dante stops for an
inventory check in his cloak, making sure he has his tinderbox, tobacco, food
rations, ¾ full wine flask and wineskins, and scrolls of holy and unholy poetry.
Upon discovering all the items, he continues to limp along.

The two men find themselves chortling at paintings on the wall, which are of
harlots in tombs, performing various sexual rituals on the demigods for erotic
pleasure. They enjoy the realism of a picture of old friends bowing to the
Goddesses they lust for. Dante stares at an unusual graphic depiction of a long
lost Goddess reaching out to touch a miserable servant of God. In fact, the
servant has a look of fear of her presence, as though it will strip him of his
spiritual longings.

Virgil pauses and articulates, “You think that one is good, look at this one
from India.”

Dante turns to the said picture and it is of a like figure of him, holding a
bride in his arms, slamming her up against a wall, while they share mutual
ecstasy.

Dante notes, “They never knew how good they both had it.”

Virgil, uncharacteristically sentimental, says, “I couldn’t agree with you
more.”

However, Virgil’s eyes become shadowy as he realizes that he has more questions
for the naïve Dante.

Virgil asks, “Clearly Dante, if baptism is a sacrament of your divine encounter,
then what happened on the day when you baptized yourself in the name of your
four holiest Goddesses?”

Dante thinks back and opens a scroll, he browses through it, and while coughing
up phlegm, he shoves the paper back into his cloak.

Dante is at a loss and spouts, “I am in pain for blaming the castes of the
ancients on the incarnation of a Pagan renaissance, in my life and others.”

Virgil warns, “Watch your candor, Dante.”

Dante agrees, “My mistake, master.” He continues, after briefly pausing, “Okay,
I’ll give it to you quick and painful: My fair lady was enraptured by Goddesses
all her own, and my inflammatory lies were tainted by an amalgam of outside
influences. I was in such fear of having been twice initiated into the sacred
covenants. When the bloods of Baal tested my belief, I took the laws of God into
my own hands. I recall a wash basin of impure, bloodied children, sacrificed for
the rotation of the sun. As I was lying in the wash basin—in an unaffordable
space of squalor, I prayed over and over to a deity that helps to preserve the
muse of your finest poetry. Remembering God’s pain was the loss of Goddess
worship, my prayers to the origins of the East, fell on deaf ears to the kingdom
of the dark sects. Upon restoring the holy cross to the equation, I lie in the
unholy waters of the Fallen Angel’s power and felt a flame shoot through my once
immaculate heart—at which point, the water rose up over my head and I literally
drowned. When I came back to life for the last time, I was quite unsure as to
how the rituals of the damned were in alliance with the rituals of wealthy
oppressors. Ever since, I have had an absurd feeling to kill off all of my
lovers from the days of the old that are already part of the immanent unto the
eternal.”

Virgil is not convinced, scolding, “Why should I buy any of that?”

Dante feels a bit of remorse from his admissions, yet enters a strange barracks
where a familiar spirit carries a black box with a gold chain and greets the two
living beings at the tomb’s portal. The wraith-like ghost is friendly and
without fear of Dante’s neurotic demeanor.

The ghost is mysterious in speech, “You have all the necessary provisions to
recover from the war wounds of your crusade against the plague. However, is the
test of patience the element keeping us from being together?”

Dante, in his esoteric manner, answers a different question than at hand, “I
fear that I will do well on the text, however, the moneylenders are
disrespectful to the plight of my addiction to risk-taking and gambling—Consider
the rich who were once poor, as envious of the poor that have only asked of them
the penance that I pay every morning.”

The ghost does not fully understand the cryptic nature of this seg-way, but
still facilitates a reply, “Then why fear the trials ahead?”

Dante continues his economic lecture, “Because the trials change according to
the laws of the wealthy to bump off the unwealthy.”

The ghost finally knows how to address this stream of consciousness by
explaining, “Even I envy your sexual experiences and your powerful friends. Yet,
I see that, in spite of the shambles of your account, you seek the artisan
path.”

Dante rambles on, “An earthly cousin reminds me that he needs what I have and
you are the one who has what I need.”

The ghost admits, “I do not understand. If your only greed is to find the
fragments of the art of greed, then is this why your next trial is a bias
against your kindness and free nature, which empowers the underprivileged?”

Dante answers the best he can, “It is most likely due to my premature
revelations of a beautiful apocalypse—I’ll be honest, I lost my tinderbox before
the woods took me in, yet what once was lost is now found. Still my lack of
current resources blind me and the mass of the phantoms eludes my safe-keeping.”


The ghost finally thinks of a proverbial statement, “Too much jargon will
flatten you into submission and sterilization.”

Dante disagrees, “There you may be wrong. I have one master above that cherishes
your attention to detail. He has not betrayed your sacrosanct writ and nor shall
I.”

The ghost remains stoic in his verbal lesson, “Writing is a lot less idealistic
than you think. Rapists and false gods lurk around every shadow in your eventual
paradise. And if I know you, one moment of Zen could derail your plans for good.
Also, how will you avoid the drastic force of evil in the chamber of horrors?”

Dante again answers assuredly, “Because although the pressures of Babylon and
the demigods of lost legends are seeking to mystify my presence, my rationale
was handed to me by a moon Goddess that worships me. She appears as a fox when I
remember our erotic encounter.”

The ghost is quick to ask in curiousness, “What did she say?”

Dante confesses, “This time we should take it slow and if we work together than
the several hundred orgasms we share shall have power. This time we shall work
together.”

The ghost is pleased by this train of thought and the interrogation goes on, “So
the fox told you to take it slow until climax and cooperate with or without a
definition of holy union?”

Dante answers in briefness, “Precisely.”

The ghost shudders in delight from the traumatic appearance of Dante.

Now the ghost begins the conclusion of the current dialectic, “Your stay at the
house of the Lord will be troublesome as long as you put off your destiny.
However, I recognize your economical bind as the builders of progress use their
craftsmanship to devise a water-based elimination of disease, to abate the
dung-heap above. I for one, hope to God you know what you’re getting yourself
into.”

The ghost smiles and whispers in conclusion, “Just don’t rush it—Even if I’m not
there when you arrive, my presence will be there. Of course, the prince of
deliverance and peace will always live at the chateau where I too will sojourn
after quiet meetings between us…Peace be with you…”

The ghost immaterializes leaving a few pieces of mangled artworks. Dante
nervously collects the pieces and places them in his inside pocket in his cloak.
The cloak, as it seems, contains an infinite amount of space for objects of
need.

Dante, while pacing in circles, thinks to himself, “I felt a bit rested from
saving my provisions that barely made it out of Hades. Still wearisome from the
rejuvenation of spirit that pours blood into my flesh like mediocre wine in a
half-repaired wineskin. It is a scream of agony from a world of pain unknown
even in my dreariest occasions that retains gratefulness to the remnants of
culture I eternally destroy in acts of recreation.”

Dante scratches his head and peers down a hallway, realizing it is most likely
another dead end. Thus, he makes a detour. He notices a hurting follower of the
broken cross—head, hands and feet being contained in an uncomfortable barrack,
which contorts the prisoner’s body in entrapment.

Dante explains to the author of this text, “No crime is worthy of this
indignity.”

Dante finds a needle in his cloak and meddles with the brass lock, finally
snapping the metal. He prays silently for the prisoner and discomfort increases.
The prisoner wheezes in pain.

The prisoner coughs up blood while accusatorily speaking, “Even if you take my
place, you will never know my pain. So leave me alone. If I am to die of
torture, torture me not with your God’s abundant love for you.”

A revolving rock door on the wall opens to reveal Virgil, Dante’s greatest love
and greatest fear.

Virgil is friendly in his demeanor, as he slowly articulates his words, “Hello
my friend. I know you are troubled by something that no angel, demon or god
could ever penetrate. However, the devil and his minions have given me a hint of
rules that will prepare you for the long trek ahead—including how to keep me
alive even after I abandon you at the end of Purgatory.”

Virgil unrolls a scroll that looks similar to Dante’s own parchments.

Virgil reads aloud from the scroll, “Rule one: Avoid the pagan idol that you
invented before death, or its secrets will die. Rule two: If the lover of your
past comes near, do whatever it takes to chase her off. Rule three: When the
hour of your mortality arrives for good, your freedoms must be sacrificial to
please the winds that would otherwise destroy the literate and humorous until
all that is left is fool’s gold.”

Virgil and Dante realize that they have angered the energetic forces of their
lair by discovering the secrets of immortality. Both of them want to flee from
the shaking walls of Christ’s tomb. So they continue, as Virgil floats and Dante
limps while pushing falling stones out of his way—his thoughts are increasingly
erratic. Virgil lassos Dante with a barely visible noose made of lightning. The
moss in the cavern decomposes rapidly sending dust particles into the air that
cloud the oncoming path. A strange and beautiful ghost of a furry leech latches
onto Dante’s neck, feeding off of Virgil’s noose.

Virgil feels a rush of energy and he speaks in honesty, “I want the bondage of
your enslavement.”

Dante bows to Virgil to humble his words, “You don’t understand—I am your slave,
master, for your passages of despair are greater than the joy of the Lord.”

The passageway tunnel quakes hard.

Virgil deepens his voice and confesses, “My kingdom will prevent the coming of
Zion.”

Dante disagrees in a reassuring tone, “Well, everything is a part of everything
anyway.”

A wall to the right barricades the passage and the travelers switch directions,
tripping over the sudden growth of sponges and moss on the floor. Dante pauses
for a moment to touch a barnacle and it pricks his finger—purple dye oozes from
his flesh. Virgil licks the substance from Dante’s finger, as he removes the
energy-field of magic that is the noose of aforementioned restraint.

Dante winces and stutters, “It hurts worse now.”

Virgil unlocks a chamber to the left and drags Dante by the noose.

Dante’s thoughts pontificate in his split mind, which read as follows, “Carrying
the affliction through the chamber—through mortar and brick, forgetting what it
is like to touch a piece of wheat in a windblown field, oh plague of the End of
the Age—let there not be dew or rain upon you whilst the fields of agriculture
receive no offering…”

Blood stains all over the wall lead the two lost kindred, for only they are able
to read the markings.

Suddenly, a whisper from a female deity calms Dante’s trouble for a moment, only
then to reawaken his concern, “They’re still there, all of them—You are their
God, yet you are disturbed by your own lack of faith, hope and love. God will
never restore everything to you—it is too late for you to please him.”

Virgil flickers a metallic futuristic time piece into Dante’s visual field and
the whisper dissipates. Then, the leech from Dante’s neck detaches and squirms
away.

Virgil explains, “Your poisoned mind is nearly healed.”

Virgil lifts Dante’s left foot and with a shard of glass, cuts open a slit
through his flimsy sandal, straight into the flesh.

Virgil elucidates his position in a doctor’s stance of professionally inclined
dialogue, “The leech is for the removal of toxins. The pain of the healing power
of bloodletting is for assurance that only nutrients will be absorbed after the
poison leaves. And don’t ask me about the sentient beings, because Beatrice
guards them in Paradise, which is an infinite journey that none have seen the
end of.”

After Virgil retreats down a different pathway to find a way out, an angel of
the Lord views Dante’s unrelenting agony and speaks out of thin air.

The angel’s entertaining words are, “Do not be afraid—anxiety and book worship
are not crimes, you lamb of Christ. Remember how much you are loved and that
your pain is his pain too.”

Dante replies with a question and a statement, “But if I cannot be trusted with
a little, how am I to be trusted with a lot? And I do not want to burn for my
sins, I’d rather burn for someone else’s.”

The angel explains, “The Lord reminds you that years of growth and restoration
are as valuable as the locket of your blood pact that you have kept concealed
against all odds.”

Dante still worries about his future, wondering aloud, “Well that’s fine and
good, but what if God does require that I achieve wealth to complete this maze?”


The angel answers, “You let him and his servants handle that. Meanwhile, I think
I am going to find a soul in the world above to torment with evil possession, in
light of your unabashed faith.”

The voice leaves, and from under a ledge, noxious fumes again flood the air of
the tunnel. Dante crouches and finds a feather from a pheasant, licks it and
pricks his wrist. He then opens one of his blank scrolls and allows the droplets
of blood to splash onto the paper. He forms symbols onto the page. As the blood
dries, Dante is perplexed by his weakening heart, and is unable to finish
drawing symbols (that have meaning to no one) as his wrist wound heals. He is
too faint to draw more blood.

Dante and Virgil, together again, walk among disgusting sights of foul shit and
other refuse on the ground. Virgil returns to his friend’s side wearing an
unusual mask and talks to the ever penitent Dante.

Virgil says, “I found out. You are the world’s lousiest thief. In fact, how are
you to justify your existence without documentation?”

Dante answers with his usual hyperbolic absurdities, “Well, there was a heist in
my hometown that even the Lord of the underworld was never able to catch me
during. I robbed from the poor to support my alcoholism while fasting for lent.
I switched documents in case my lost memories of an incarnation of Aphrodite
caught on. While I knew her to be innocent of false accusations of my own
suicidal angst, this did not justify my tryst of the Thieves’ Guild holy
command. Alas, she suffers for the rape of humankind that I did ransom in case
of further trials, which would only get me off the hook for punishing a demonic
spirit of envious lust.”

Virgil, listening carefully, chimes in, “Do not tell me that this lust was for
crimes against literacy.”

Dante is revealing of his madness in speech, “In spite of that, my fear of
familial discrepancies did not deter me from draining the account of an honest
shopkeeper, while losing my worthwhile scrolls that may have prevented my
downfall. Thus, to make a long story short, I forged records to rob her bank
account in honor of my own legacy. However, now that I have made utterance of
suicidal tendencies, I am without hope except to pay her back in contrition,
while her own lust for dominion is an ample contribution to my cause.”

Virgil wonders aloud at this predicament, “If you cannot be trusted with a
worthwhile value of a lesser sum----Why would your act seem out of character,
being as you have written much of your poetry in virtual lockdown?”

Dante agrees, “If lockdown does not prove that I am unworthy to return any
favors until I regain mental stability, I shall take no others with me to the
creator of principalities for lost souls.”

Virgil cannot help but to ask, “Would you say that liberty, fraternity and
equality are of a greater value than any other social ideology?”

Dante is unsure, but answers, “I do agree that money, as we have seen, is of no
value in comparison.”

Virgil laughs and admits, “You got me there. Let’s just hope that the God of
Israel will see eye to eye with your irrational terms of justification. Let us
proceed with extreme caution.”




PART THREE
WELL OF SOULS

Down the corridor an echo of a shrill voice wickedly lies to the ever weakening
Dante.

The voice rises from the underground, “Grace does enlighten the blessed one who
finds energy outside this world from a source of beauty that saves your soul
from the world above, which is now the devil’s domain—Hunger for purity in a
state of bliss that exalts not the weary or weak or helpless, yet only those
interested in totality of economic control shall receive the blessings of
Lucifer.”

Dante feigns resentment at the torturing emanations, knowing that beyond the
illusory sounds, another in a series of sliding rock passageways awaits. Like
before, only this time from an unknown source, a thinly outlined rope of a
light’s energy attaches to his neck while he pulls as hard as he can on the
handle of the wall. Spirits of angels wander by, scolding him in various tongues
for all of his futile struggles. An apparition of a veiled creature with a beak
looms over Dante as he nearly passes out from exhaustion.

Beyond the door is a bright window, opening into a portal of a machine that
enables Dante’s intense fear of oncoming onslaughts of projectiles. An old
companion (who will have to go without name or description) comes to his rescue,
shielding the fast moving fire bombs, and to maintain his stupor of ecstatic
loyalty to his friends, he peacefully engages the Holy Spirit in the air of the
ancient warriors that Dante has only by accident come upon.

Dante’s fear for the lineage of King David helps to fend off the attack, which
his friend enjoys watching. As he watches through the window, the clouds part
open to a flaming city of neon in the dampening cycles of the universe’s future,
forming cities that are to be ruled by greed and starvation amidst technological
superiority. Colonies rebuild and collapse as Dante whispers prayers under his
breath for thankfulness that the musician of the Psalms is in safekeeping.
Galactic utopias form and reform under swarms of crackling layers of molten rock
that consume sentient ghosts that attempt to hide from holocausts of their own
advent.

A moment later Dante relishes the appearance of what is left of the sunset—a
shadow on a nearby sundial casts its umbra on the number three. There is an
appearance of a sphere which plays a lullaby of hushing whispers.

A voice in Dante’s head explains what is in his optical field, “The vespers are
singing “amore” to the hour of midnight. Sunrays are striking the middle of my
sheepish expression.”

Dante continues circling around the foreboding mountain with blasts of icy cold
wind impeding his every step.

As he heads in a counter-clockwise direction, again a voice is manifest in his
thoughts, “I feel a weight upon my forehead; a splendor much greater than before
and marveling at I am not sure what; ‘Victorae Immaculata,’ says my voice; I
raise my hand above my eyes and make myself a shield from the sun’s rays, filing
away this visible excess of nature’s contradictions. Soon the hour draws that
you will no longer have fear in your heart; for the more of us possessing
spirit, the more charity burns in a circle.”

A voice of a muse speaks aloud to Dante, “I am all the more starving of
satisfaction if I say nothing now and more doubt collects in my mind. How can it
be that a good divided up among many, can make those who possess the good richer
than if it were only possessed by a few?”

Dante answers, “Because, my friend, you are once more fixing your mind upon the
things of Earth. You find obscurity in true light. That ineffable and infinite
good, which is above, rushes to love just as surely does a ray of light to a
bright surface. The gift is in proportion to the ardor it finds; so that, the
greater the charity, the more eternal good pours on the soul. And the more there
are to love, the more love there is. Even when we go beyond the stars, the days
of old betray the truth of delirium.”

In the cold loneliness of the deceptive chambers, Dante once again fears
isolation from companions of the world below. His belief that mitigates
depression is that the women he wronged are no longer to be his brides in the
heavenly domain.

Dante tries to rationalize these most condemning thoughts (to no avail),
speaking to himself, “Oh well, I thought their jealousy will lead them into
enlightened rage and if my sleep is disturbed by the joy of musicians, then the
spirits shall partake of inherited affliction. Of course, this world conceals
the truth of the realms of the spirits that require coaxing and kindness to
arrive at a fear that they themselves are missing out on. I accept the grace of
God and return with weaponry from the treasury to eliminate the unbelievers,
which is a mistake that has cost me my goals for any other future than death
inside of this chamber. Once I am racing against the nature of space and
existence, then I am damned if I do and damned if I don’t. My own lingering on
the expert studies of wickedness are condemning me to never value useful
materials until the Devil himself truly bleeds me dry of my own personal
judgment of the wicked ones he sent me to condemn unto him. This explains why my
path is so wrought with fear, because purity and perfection are only attainable
in black magic. I must give up hope to the beast and seek only to make
improvements to dark temples of plague that come from a ritual of my own
dabbling with the indictment that cannot come from God or his grace because of
how ugly and hideous I feel in partaking of sacrilegious ceremonies—This too is
meaningless. Insipid distractions and jealous fears of an empty vessel in the
air of true bliss will never be felt in this heart of mine, for it is I that
keeps the Messiah from resurrection through poverty and lack of sobriety amongst
the loneliest creatures of God while he himself is amongst immense loneliness at
this hour. I suppose I shall leave my troubles in the Lord’s hands, though,
because I have written of evil’s exposure, which condemns me to tortures beyond
any control. The spirits of darkness shall truly consume me for confessions of
my sins to Christ and attempt to follow in his ways throughout my life. The
greater my love for him grows, the more I know that my soul shall be ripped to
pieces by satanic powers. In fact, it was the day I accepted him into my life
that the Devil took over all the mind’s of the people in the world and owned my
mind, body and spirit deep within his clutches for eternity. Upon every act of
penance, I fall further away from grace and upon every act of kindness, I become
further away from truth. Upon every slight gesture of joy, God’s wrath grows
stronger against me and every tear shed for the belief of Christ, I am dragged
further into Hell’s icy domain. In fact, I now realize that honest exposure of
manipulation and deceit was the Devil’s true plan from the start—For how could
an act of love torture children? Embellishment is a constant reminder of the
danger of the power of honesty and service to the true creator of the world. I
suppose I owe more thanks and praise to all those I have wronged, but there are
no more peacemakers, lovers of God, teachers of the spirit, actors of kindness;
gone is the cause of humanitarian acts for the poor, the needy, the lost, the
tired and the weary. And does anyone care about the animal kingdom, the
environment or the end of inequality? The last thing I’ll ever be able to do is
to examine the true nature of the beast, for this is an act allowed only to
those who cannot give up the most carnal sins of all—insidious corruption of the
flesh in the form of the most foreboding crimes of all. In fact, I am condemned
to a life of poverty, guilt and embarrassment. In effect, my truest sin was ever
having been a Christian in the first place—this act alone will burn me forever
in eternal suffering.”

Dante continues to follow the roundabouts of the twisted route in the infinite
tomb, overhearing a fever of cries that pillage claims of a sense of wisdom.

In response, Dante speaks to the walls, “My mind is like a grain of sand within
a grain of sand. My pity is felt toward those in an undeserved affliction, which
brings about fear toward the one who has become like us.”

Dante stops moving and rummages through his pockets to find a book of black and
white magic. He flips to page 13 and reads, looking at the illustrations of
astrological markings of Taurus, Capricorn, Sagittarius and Libra.

He reads the book aloud, “If air magic is contaminated by an overabundance of
magic of the same nature, in a combination of fire magic, then the powers create
a force field that accelerates velocity of the rising skies. To combine fire
with fire is necessary in enhancing the coldness of atmospheric pressure. This
means that intensification of the combination of elements is essential to
magic.”

Virgil creeps up from behind and without startling his pupil, he tests him by
asking, “Interesting chart you have Dante, but may I ask—if the differences
between the elemental balances shift from element to element and expose the
nature of each element, will the magician be forever trapped by all four
quadrants, thus eliminating the chances of maintaining one development of
alchemic responses over another?

Dante thinks hard and responds, “Not quite, fine sir. For you see if the outside
spheres of the diagram are drawn into one grid from another, then those elements
harmonize into that position for a cycle, until they reposition into the center.
If the cycle continues in repetition, then the force that claims itself as the
most alluring will grow to a point that it will drain its own power and the
other three points will break from the chain forever.”

Virgil likes his answer to a degree, but continues further inquiry, “Reasonable,
yet once an element retains a value certain of its own, will it not pressurize
its own power, rebalancing the nature of the cycles? In other words, how is it
possible to return to a cycle that is either overused or treated with ownership
of its specific function?”

Dante determines his position and makes a claim, “Well, Virgil, if one element
is disproportionate to the utility of the others and is a value that is
irreplaceable until its purpose is fulfilled, then the point of that position is
virtually unusable again. Let me put it to you in a story—Take Oedipus, for
example. If a prophet held out an orb and looked into it, a vision of a road
ahead may explain purposes of a determined layout of the exact passage meant to
be taken and yet this principle may be completely forgotten except by the
subconscious at which point only later in life will he accept a trial at the
intersection of his unexpected crossroad and predestine his own inner child to
return to his mother’s womb by eliminating his father’s kingdom without
remembering that the purpose of eliminating his father was to reclaim ownership
of his entitlement to rejoin the male and female spirit in harmony. Of course,
in a way, the whole idea of magic is like saying a rabbit will pop out of a
pitchfork and harmonizing the chart will not occur for undetermined millennia.
Then again, take this side of the chart that represents lightning combined with
the constellation of Libra—if this grouping is exposed long enough to a belief
in only its essential purpose, it will recycle until termination of its own
manifestation, ending up with a loss of all purpose whatsoever in our known star
system.”

Virgil continues to take Dante to task, “Then why are manifestations of your own
acceptance of imprisonment at odds with your belief in the coexistence of art
and alchemy?”

Dante attempts an explanation, “It is just that if you position any principle
over domains of reason and logic, then other values have no function.”

Virgil requires more information and intends to get it, “Yes, but if the higher
realm above this chart refuses to coexist with the balances of the planes and
the planes disappear into repetition, then why is one ancient parchment of magic
more valuable than another?”

Dante is quite sure this question is answerable, as he explains, “Well, if you
take the priorities of matter, mind and spirit as central to enlightenment,
there is a document that cannot be ignored. This is the legend of Plato’s Cave;
Within are beings chained to a wall viewing images that are flickering against
the point at which the outside light intersects with the plane within the visual
range of the imprisoned spectators. The visions that flicker on the wall within
the shadows represent a world beyond the existence of those chained. If a
prisoner were to be enticed to break out of the cuffs around his arms, upon the
struggle on the way outside into the light source that create the flickering
shadows, the dilation of the prisoner’s pupils would not be able to withstand
the light source from above and his eyes would weaken to the point that he would
return to the cave of his own free will—due to the sun’s heat source and the
caves habitat, which now provides comfort necessary for the being.”

Virgil understands and contributes to the logic through spoken interpretation,
“If the spiritual essence of the life force generates fear into you from an
unseen connection, then the savior of this realm demands fear from his source
alone—because if this fear is generated from any other source of power
whatsoever, said fear will impose limitations upon you that are of no value.
Therefore, is your cause for Christianity is real at all, the fear must only be
from the source of the Lord’s power within you. And supposing the fear of God
alone eliminates the fear that you have to have of him to put an end to his
decimation of flesh, supposing the decaying corpses of natural diseases that are
wiping out mankind in the world above or below that scream to Christ, while
rivers of blood pour through the streets because of a lack of proper medicinal
practices, then why is not your savior rescuing any of them from decay?”

Dante takes an educated guess, answering, “It’s not that disorder is meaningful,
yet because God and Christ are one, to fear natural causes of biological
disorder is not proof that God’s fear is real within you. Take principles that
stimulate concepts of reason and order to alleviate concepts that are not
technically allowed in his kingdom at all—However, that doesn’t mean we
shouldn’t enjoy this domain while it lasts.”

Virgil takes offense and snarls, “What is there to possibly enjoy about rotting
flesh and decaying corpses?”

Dante attempts to calm down his master, answering his question with a question,
“Why not illustrate the entire picture of mankind, instead of pretending that
pain and suffering don’t actually exist?”

Virgil is edgy and full of contempt in his answer, “Because pain and suffering
do exist and while you have been traveling around with philosophers, the rest of
us have been enduring the heartache, with actual problems like low supplies of
tainted meat and garbage all over the streets. Meanwhile, our supply from our
actual treasury is being bled out from under us, all right!”

Dante is still acting haughty in his reply, “Perhaps if you repositioned the
value of currency to an actual purpose of dedication to the Holy Alliance, your
money would retain more of its worth. Anyway, economics will not do us a bit of
good unless we turn this entire project over to the Lord who is just and SEVERE
in his anger to any concept that does not match up with his—that is the point of
reading these texts; to lead the weak ones away from suffering and torment.
Still, anyone who refuses to define an actual principle that governs nature,
will not be allowed into the domain of Paradise.”

Virgil shoots down his arrogance in the following dialogue, “Let’s face it,
Dante—nothing is real. The defiance of creation will not lead to the damnation
of the covenant. And your precious ‘Holy Alliance’ are just another pack of
Satanists that do actually take the firstborn of their beloved members. They
don’t fucking care if you find out they eat ACTUAL dead children, in front of
the mirrors of their savior, Lucifer.”

Dante is amazed by this outburst and let’s a few questions out into the open,
“No shit? Really? Then answer me this, are the devil worshipers brave enough to
stand in front of the world and reveal this secret blood pact of the occult for
all to see?”

Virgil becomes calm again and quips, “That’ll be the day. Anyway, I remain in
the business to guide the fallen ones away from the Mouth of Moloch, which is
visible in my verse.”

Dante shudders at the flood of guidance he is receiving, adding another
accusation, “Well, the Papacy and the kings are not as forgiving to treachery of
any kind toward the true blood of the lamb. You of all people should be the most
worried, considering you signed your own death warrant when you were in Sodom.”

Virgil finds this zealous statement offensive, but calmly jokes, “Your lust for
conquest turns me on.”

Dante relieves the tension in the building argument by assuring, “I’m sure that
you will come back in another form, if reincarnation is as real as it is to our
guardian Pythagoras!”

Virgil reels in confusion and takes a deep breath before letting words fly, “WHY
have you put out an assassination on the lives of us teachers, when you are in
more danger than any. I saw you summon the Devil from the pit to call the
inhuman entities beyond this world with lust for universal domination in their
glowing eyes, seen behind their masks, as they dressed in garbs of satin?! I saw
them wearing costumes of animals and disguising themselves as playthings for
children, enjoying the beat of the music that I did sing along with only to push
them closer to the point of no return; not even to see if they were Christian or
not but to literally lead the entire cast and crew of witches and warlocks to
the demon possession that will bind them forever, even if they were to drop to
their knees and repent—I’ve seen them try, and they turn to stone! Of course, I
could care less because they all deserve it. I’ve never had more fun leading the
easily manipulated straight into the hands of the antichrist and I was using my
imagination to influence their music against them using your techniques. And it
was awesome—one of the best nights of my life—especially watching the author die
that feigned kindness until put out of his misery. Who still praises the living
Word? I will push them all over the edge straight into Hell and even if they
might have converted to Christianity later in life, I could care less because it
was a direct order from Heaven that if I partook of the knowledge of good and
evil, then I could read scripture to send the ghosts of deception in their heart
straight into the hands of the enemy. And to be honest, I cannot wait to do it
again. Lord willing, I’ll get that chance!”

Virgil passes out from his rage and the Lord of Israel speaks to Dante from an
unknown source, explaining, “Worry not Dante, I enjoy his words—in fact, weeding
out the false deceivers of Christ’s teachings, be they Jew or Greek, free or
slave, is one of my all time favorite activities from the old days. I know
you’ll feel haunted from all these memories, but, in the end, I will remove the
wicked from the Earth.”

As the voice of the Lord fades out, Dante is terrified by the growling that
Virgil makes while still unconscious. He is not a bit in comfort, but thinks
these thoughts, “I want to read all the books that expose his true nature. I am
breathing deep breaths now and hobbling down the stone echo chamber full of the
ghosts of Babylon. I am thinking to myself that I am fortunate to have seen the
image of St. Francis, who informs me in my current thoughts that Christ will
love the sinful, whether or not they ever turn from sin. However, I am also
thinking that I wrote many lives straight into Hell, while thinking I was making
music for my savior. Still, I know that the Cherubim rejoice, and I will do
anything for Jesus, any time, any place, for my King of Kings. Whosoever
believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

As Virgil is foaming at the mouth in convulsions, Jesus whispers to both men,
not to comfort necessarily, but to illustrate a point. His words are, “Of
course, you both must realize that among your visions in the past were of those
who wore the skin of dead people and were mechanized to move like automatons.
Many of them, you thought to be dead, but their flesh lives on. However, their
hearts won’t last forever, because time is on your side, not theirs. Now, I’m
going to take Virgil into another dimension and work on his physical anguish.
But I send to you he who was just in your thoughts, the blessed Saint.”

Dante sees the glorious image of St. Francis and is quick to speak to him, “My
patron, are you worrying about the day of wrath? The thought of it has pushed me
as far as I can go, until I barely made it back here—though do not mistake me, I
am not boasting of my travels.”

St. Francis laughs and questions his servant, “Tell me, are you sure this wasn’t
the plot of the oracle that you and your friends set you up to die unto?”

Dante answers vaguely, “Either or, my saint, either or.”

St. Francis warns, “If the powers that be get their hands on any of your
scrolls, you are a dead man.”

Dante wonders aloud, “Then how do you know that you aren’t next?”

St. Francis is not at all concerned, explaining, “Believe me, kindred one, this
dimension is surely a comedy in the making, however, I am the person your
debtors all fear most. I will see you again before this is over!”

Dante watches St. Francis ride off on a cloud and a holy governess approaches
the scenario, to continue this brief moment of comfort.

Dante bows to the governess and immediately explains, “I meant what I said, I
will guard your lover forever, no matter what thoughts of mine have seemed
contrary due to the nature of the chalice we drank from—It was all a plot to
throw off the mind readers.”

The governess is stern in her question, “Why have you dealt with the other side?
Behold the father who takes away the sins of the world. I have seen your
sorrows, Dante.”

The governess exits through the wall and another older woman from a wall on the
left enters, grief stricken in anger—She looks every bit as attractive as the
governess, yet her confidence is a wreck.

The older maiden firmly asks Dante, “If you are Lord of this city, for whose
name there was such strife among the Gods, how have you come to sparkle with
such deep knowledge?”

Dante smiles and answers, “You are too kind. I am not sure where my gifts come
from, or what they are, but I do try to use them.”

The older maiden is, like so many of the spiritual beings introduced here,
cryptic, “Avenge yourself of those impudent arms, which have embraced our
daughter!”

After she walks away, Dante finds himself alone in a quiet chamber, reflecting
through prayer, “Pardon me Lord, my visions distract me, though I will never let
anyone take responsibility for the death’s upon myself I have caused alone. I
will always remember the night during the longest war, when there was a merger
of spirits into the form of Aphrodite. While I exchanged an old man’s ambushed
plan for a sip from the holy cup, I felt the Eros of her touch, which was a
memory between only us. And Lord, pardon those who persecute me with the look
that brings out the onlooker’s pity. You have strengthened me and delivered me
from death a thousand times—Thanks again. When my soul turned from these
appearances to things which are true—truth being independent of itself—I
recognized my falsehoods and errors. My guide Virgil, could surely see that I
was acting like a man loosing himself from sleep.”

Virgil returns to accompany Dante through the maze, as they both retrace their
steps very carefully, back the way they came, in order to find the correct
passage.

Dante, amused at Virgil’s recovery, praises him, “Oh my gentle father, I am
training in your light of darkness to join your darkness of light. You have
already prepared a place deep in the abode for the gentle souls I entertain
tonight—When I thought you were irreparably damaged, I nearly fell down and
died.”

Virgil smiles and returns the compliment, “If you had seven hundred masks upon
your face and a chain, still your cogitations would not be closed to me, even in
the slightest. What you have been seeing is to stop you from excusing yourself
from opening your heart to the waters of peace, which are poured out from the
eternal fountain.”

Dante thinks what he should write later, which is, “I almost asked Virgil if he
was afraid of death, but knew that some things, even here, are taboo.”

Virgil, practically reading his counterparts thoughts, admits, “We are men who
have only eyes to see with and they cannot see because the body is senseless.”

Dante loses his train of thought, but replies, “ What that old lover of mine
does not know will hurt her—I mean the lover of the old Earth, ignorant of this
prior existence.”

Retracing footsteps lead the pair back to another visitation with spirits. In
fact, the older maiden, who is more recognizable this time, is happy to address
Dante’s concerns with his lover.

She speaks, “What should we do to one who wishes us ill, if one who loves us is
condemned by us?”

Dante answers, “Trust me, I protect the Papacy, the Royal Family, the artists
and then my service is yours if it means to keep safe the Holiest of Holies.”

An envious rabble of underlings shout from the walls of the chamber, “Kill him,
kill him!”

Dante feels a sharp pain in his gut, choking and vomiting onto an old scroll on
the ground that appears quite meaningless to him.

Dante laughs while apologizing to Virgil for the defamation of the scroll, “This
is a good sign—Dear Virgil, amidst such war, I ask for your pardons for all of
the targets I have granted to the chamber of war strategy. I believe the
checkpoints were all entirely too accurate.”

The two watch the old maiden disappear and after going on down a hallway, St.
Francis rematerializes.

St. Francis is a bit angrier than before (having overheard Dante’s previous
statement), grumbling, “Look Dante, if you need a hit set up, you can contact me
without any stupid blood pact or fear of the Mouth of Hell, so shut up, please!”


Dante snaps his fingers and agrees in speech, “Good idea!”

As St. Francis dissipates, an extremely attractive woman of the alliance enters
in a white silk gown and rubs Dante’s hair—She is a woman in charge of the
galaxy.

She laughs while noticing Dante’s arousal and speaks, “You know, you’ve got less
to worry about than anyone—Just remain chaste in spite of your lustful desires.
Expect to be helped out for a season and get rid of all of your stupid
thoughts.”

Dante gets in a word with her, “I am truly sorry and will be eternally in debt
to you and your husband. If forced to, I will allow the arrow to pierce me to
stop it from hitting your lover at the crossroads.”

The woman opens up a room in which are illuminating spirits and she whispers to
them to speak, as she too exits. Spiritually, there is a mixture of good and
evil here, but their shape is indescribable.

The spirits speak all at once, “We have made several attempts on your life as
well and took your lover away from you. You have escaped the trials of death
enough for us to know that while you’ll never lose your memory, we will
literally determine the time and place of your next death upon the actual
signature of your eternal revocation of the Lamb of God.”

As Virgil furrows his brow, Dante replies to the spirits, “Don’t expect me to
lie.”

Now St. Francis returns in uproar, pained by the thought of Dante’s supposed
heroism.

He asks, “Who put you up to this? Was it the Papacy or the science? Did you go
straight to the top? I want to know, because I will put an end to this for
good.”

Dante tries to reason with the saint, “May our enemies rot in hell, for an
eternity of endless stasis. Never mess with the teachings of our angered
fathers.”

St. Francis smacks his hand on his head and in a puff of smoke is gone. Dante’s
cloak is blown off by this magic, and so he puts it back on.

All the while he is thinking to himself, “I felt slightly sorry for the good and
evil spirits I visit with, for I have seen them happy as children. Still, I was
not deceived because there are many on Earth and below that are predestined by
God to walk with the Nephilim. At any time we want, we have the power to twist
their heads and send them all into the abyss permanently. I must admit a fear
remains from a vision my Lord reveals of a world that does terminate into
Lucifer’s hands and the serpent takes credit for it all. Yet, from the incense,
I am inspired to write in my scrolls that there must be a love for the end of
humanity—a love deeper than for life itself. I believe it was real and the Lord
has shown pride in my conquest—it is He who allows us to watch the evils of the
world and decides what gets the axe, staying true to the law.”

Dante speaks aloud to Virgil, as he knows that his master is concerned with his
thoughts, “I promise you, my thoughts were all of one of the funniest
experiences I’ve ever had—and look, I am still here.”

Virgil warns him, “If you ever thought that the spirits were saved after you
summoned them through necromancy, you are mistaken.”

Dante disagrees, “That’s just your opinion. God is the puppeteer and I was under
the influence of chemicals. And while it may not have been the unholy ghost, I
believe it was the Old Inquisitor himself. Also, I’ll speak with the dead again,
you just wait.”

As this passes from speech, the two journey into a dark room they have not seen
before. Strange masks merge into one form, calling out names to demonic forms
outside the universe.

Virgil is not quite amused and lectures, “It was your influence and your
friendship with them that led the masks to this damned orgy of speech. They do
this for your fucking chemical conventions.”

Dante recalls a memory, which provokes an answer to this reasoning, “Well, guess
what, I’m here and they are there. The dying words of the forgotten child
were—before Satan tore his flesh apart—‘I did it all for you, Dante.’ I asked
for a truth in the forms and I received it and God holds nothing against me. The
best part is—it is hilarious. It is an easy mechanism to take part in. You
infiltrate their union and masquerade as though you are one of them and then
hand out Faust’s Contract without having signed it, kick back, drink wine, and
literally enjoy the show while they burn—Yes, they are tortured for eternity, so
enjoy the show. As far as these masks, even they are puppeteered.”

Virgil laughs to himself for a moment, then retaliates, “Are you ready to be
excommunicated for knowing this?”

Dante attempts to explain his stance, but is quite unsuccessful, “My debts to
society and the thieves of the lesser world are far too great at this point to
worry about that. So it is like this: Either we start the entire quest for the
kingdom over or we follow our trail back to the safe passage, before the Lord
calls out another attack against our people. This time I won’t be able to pray
for any of us to come back—not the spiritual leaders of the damned, not the kin
of the heart of hell—none of the musicians that cast forth lies will be spared,
either. If any of them do come anywhere close to the kingdom, the angels of
death will wipe their existence out of all dimensions. Does this clarify?”

Virgil smiles, relating to these inexplicable concepts, “I love that. Death and
destruction are of my mind and leadership! However, you cannot just end poverty
and suffering and starvation by giving money to soothsayers and diviners and
prophets. I expect nothing in return. Yet, it all comes back to you, does it?
And all the suffering victims of the war are magically walking around again.
Furthermore, in case you thought I’d believe you about some false God just
because you’ve performed a couple of lousy miracles by giving money to the
Church, would I not be then a believer in the bought and sold power from God as
Simon Magus accomplishes in your book of lies?”

Dante is, for the first time, upset at his master, saying, “Consider yourself
involved with the ways of corrupt teachings—The fact is that you cannot consider
any possible solution to the ways of Heaven that God prepares for us, except the
one mapped out by the Israelites. The whole purpose of this road ahead is to
receive our wrathful judgment from the Lord on High and if you want to be part
of his kingdom, then you have to consider all of the charts and graphs that are
part of the design.”

Virgil calmly questions Dante, “Yes, but is it not purposeful to maintain a
reasonable fear for powers beyond this person you cannot see at all?”

Dante attempts the explanation, “If spiritual natures and divine order are in
balance with the harmonies of what is experienced through the senses, then the
fears that exist from powers beyond are simply training all other fears out of
you to return you to the source of all fear. There is a time for plague and a
time for adventure. Out of respect for the Holy Knights, they themselves
generate fear within us to accept allegiance unto the living word.”

Virgil also puts to task that explanation, “I thought you said it was them that
were pillaging and slaughtering and bringing about your fears through black
magic, did you not?”

Dante is at first caught off guard by Virgil’s remembering, but stumbles ahead
in words, “Virgil, I think that is the difference between demonic magic and
occultist wizardry. The biblical devil wants credit for everything and permeates
the slightest waver in faith. However, he will demonstrate his own weaknesses
through our faith, in turn corrupting his own visions into false prophesies.
Still, an allowance for fear of whatever power of the other side may hold is
intact. Remember the Plato’s Cave myth which is really an allusion to the eyes
readjusting from exposure to photon rays. The being that returns to the cave
will not bind himself to old useless chains that had no function in his life.
Rather the being will reinterpret the flickering shadows as a new experience.”

Virgil begins to understand, but also has to defy this line of thought by
saying, “Not bad, but this process is of no value to modern thought anyway,
because Plato has no concept of rationality whatsoever. Now, for more important
matters, if I were to take a tobacco pipe made of iron and fill it full of
normal tobacco, how could I apply your alchemic principles to convert it into an
opium?”

Dante gives his best shot at an answer, “Well, I think what you are getting at,
is if the concept of Plato’s Cave no longer applies to modern rationale, you
really cannot harmonize the elements to solve alchemic purposes and therefore
you wouldn’t have faith in the forms that are already composed by the spiritual
essence of the divine. Therefore, once again, without the spirit of the living
word none of this is even possible.”

Virgil asks a couple of loaded questions, “Do you think your alchemy is more
valuable than a lost parchment of alchemic design? Of equal value? Explain,
please.”

Dante thinks back to his conversation about magic and elucidates, “The quadrants
are there to be designed according to your own values or purposes and if those
values cannot coexist based upon hybridization then perhaps those values were
never part of your purpose. Then again Virgil, don’t you think that the designer
of alchemy is able to bring back all of the elements that have always coexisted
together?”

Virgil states vaguely, “If you are asking what I think you are asking, not
necessarily is my answer. If pieces of the nexus are already passing away from
the world, why would you restore the outside fields that refuse to be even in
the slightest togetherness. With a specific righteous dilemma of frustration
that is exposed to be mysticism, nothing actually takes part in resolving the
quadrants for any practical function or even a higher function.”

Dante somewhat agrees, “For every function there is a form and without a form
you cannot have a postulate of the reversal of spiritual evolution back into
matter.”

Virgil clears the nature of the discussion, “Your ideas are entirely
unreasonable—if you set a limitation upon a value of one formation based upon a
limitation, then that element will absorb and draw you into its phantasmagoric
specter and you will not be able to achieve its purpose at all, because it will
deceive you by maintaining its authority over the harmony of the other
elements.”

Dante continues the conversation, “Yes, sometimes when you set a goal, you will
never achieve it. However, the propositional nature of retaining a position
within a plane of the cosmos over the other specters alongside the planes of
existing gateways to the stars will retain the image that you are responsible
for completing. The process of trials in endless repetition go around and around
until that process contorts you into a deception that it is the only possible
trial to remain in forever, as though there is only one value that coordinates a
response.”

Virgil enjoys responding, “You know as well as I do that an over intensification
of this elemental pressure is dreaded by those carrying Holy Scripture similar
to your own. Yet will the chemical and energetic magic fit into only one portion
of the grid forever, if it recycles?

Dante answers the question with a question, “Well, what would be the purpose of
only retaining an indifferent orb of the cosmic fire, only to be forced to stay
in that retention forever?”

Virgil, for the most part, agrees to disagree, “Yes, but dwelling between the
ever-changing elements of divine invention does not really protect you from each
of the combustible mixtures tearing you to the four corners of the Earth.”

Dante continues lecturing on magic, “Don’t worry Virgil, the Earth is composed
of the spells around its outer dimensions anyway. And don’t think that it is the
only element to possibly dwell in forever. In fact, that too is cyclical and
will only reproduce qualities that ultimately pull the other elements into its
sphere as though it is the only state of existence.”

Virgil asks, “But will shifting and mixing the elemental structures unbalance
everything?”

Dante reaches into his cloak, turns open his scroll of magic properties and
reads, “A three part water spell with a two thirds lightning in proportion with
a mix of hair and sand—it creates a defensive power that arouses the
protector…conductivity is never deflected by the wrong combination of elemental
mixtures. However, if one mix is more or less overabundant than the others, it
may cause a chain reaction of the elements battling over which is the strongest.
If remaining in only one cycle for too long, the repetition of elements contorts
the magician into an endless cycle of the reactivity in said productive force,
eventually immobilizing the user from pressure. If this is the case, one must
remain inside a sphere of indifferent incantations for what seems to be
eternity, never allowed to coalesce all four elements that are otherwise without
differentiation in performance concerning placement on the grid. If one element
takes over the entire grid, the entire grid is subsumed to remain inside a
constant cycle of only one power. Therefore, the purpose of balancing and
repositioning the elements without fear of the absolution of their differences
is pragmatic.”

Virgil is astounded by this information and takes hold of the scroll, babbling
to himself while wandering off. Dante reflects on God while his master is away.
God notices his thoughts and is amused.

In fact, God begins to speak to Dante, “Be not deceived, for there are powers of
the enemy afoot that have set out to take from us our ideal vision of an entire
picture of the beginning, middle and end of time. The evil ones attempt to deny
us the right to the penultimate experiences of the pleasures of mankind—This is
why I will wait for you to return my scrolls and you shall again see the scrolls
I have kept from you—At that point, the entire vision shall be complete with all
the original sources. Thank you for keeping my words together.”

Dante experiences utmost relief from God’s voice. Yet, the poet feels trouble
because of the loss of the ones who realizes will fail the tests of the Lord,
remembering the crimes of his old friends and acquaintances being too great to
have ever been part of the final vision of God’s oneness.

Dante takes a moment to jot a few words into his journal. He writes:
“Who will be part of the Kingdom of God? The more I study his words and believe
in the teachings of his art, the more I find myself studying the wickedness that
I allow myself to examine. My soul is ever pushing me further toward the
ultimate punishment for my lusts and urges, which keep me from the Gates of the
Wisdom. The bread I eat in the desert shall surely be poisonous to my spirit in
the afterlife and the remainder of my unconscious experiences shall further tear
me away from ever exposing the ways of the wicked. In fact, if the antichrist
that haunts me creates music or poetry that permeates my domain of thinking, my
abominations will only be further exposed as the war intensifies that the Father
in Heaven unveils to me alone. Perhaps I will further burn for having dared to
be as great as Virgil, who sent me here to sin with the imagery I have seen. And
if I continue in wicked lusts and thoughts of vial impurity, God will personally
drain me until I am pure enough to partake of his dream. If any ugly remnants of
the past have offended the heavens or worlds below, God himself will unleash
even greater punishments upon me. He will never restore my soul for the crimes
of world hurt I may have provoked. How truly reprehensible my soul remains. For
I have continually thought of nothing but evil, never making good with enough
penance to the Messiah, instead only engaging in a wickedness too great to
comprehend. Expose my dishonesty, Lord. In effect, the only method for my
continuance along the paths of this Purgatory is to confess that I lie, cheat
and steal. When did I decide to be like the ancient kings, who never have enough
riches, stealing always from the lower classes? I may never achieve salvation
for my corruption. Am I sealed off from understanding the Word of God or the
devil or even the great poets forever? Though I know the souls of the damned
weaken as I weaken—I already lost my dream and the conquest for eternity is
futile. For if I have given my soul to the Underworld, there it shall remain and
if I continue to fight against those that have shared my chalice, a triumph
cannot exist in any shape or form. Even though I am responsible for deaths of
angels and gods, the center of my despair is a totality beyond the pain of
disillusionment. What will St. Peter do with the keys to the afterlife? Shut me
out for exposing his enemies? I suppose the acts of my labor and my personal
belongings and selfish tyrannies from ages past have beguiled me.”

Dante quiets his mind, remembers again his true love and whispers to his
Messiah, “Lost in the land is where we both shall live. Take from me the one
thing that has not passed. I’ll try so hard I’ll get to you at last. Right now,
I don’t care where I go next. The physical and spiritual perplexed. The feeling
shines the word behind her veil. Her skin, her touch…”

Dante decides it is high time to look for Virgil, but a looking glass on the
wall distracts him.

He thinks, “If my written discourse does not satisfy the reader, either way
Beatrice condones me. She takes from me every longing. I will try to secure the
wounds that have been closed by my acts of contrition.”

Feeling content, Dante stares into the looking glass, and as he stares into it,
the background of the reflection, as well as his reality, changes to a circular
space. His eager eyes are silent.

A moment or two later there is an ecstatic vision in the glass, which becomes
more like a window. It reveals a number of people in a temple. In the midst of
them is a sad, lonely, gray-haired man kneeling by a chair. Dante takes hold of
an eyepiece (of course, from a box in his cloak). He extends the piece to look
closer. He sees the man’s sadness dissipate into reverence. The old man folds
his hands and prays silently with his Holy Scripture. Dante finds this image to
be a huge relief to his previous encounters and he sighs with heartfelt intent.
At that moment a wisp of smoke from the ground attaches a ball and chain to the
left foot of the adventurer.

Due to his misfortunate handicap, Dante limps into a crevice that is
overwhelmingly bright.

Dante calls out to God, “What is that, gentle father, from which I cannot shield
my eyes in any effective way?”

The voice of the Lord answers, “Do not be astonished if your desires are fixed
on the servants of heaven, as they will be returned in future worlds. Let the
love of the supreme heavens heal you.”

Dante thinks, “Thank God we are always together, especially that night so long
ago or who knows what judgment would have been brought upon the world if we
hadn’t survived.”

Virgil, after his hiatus, returns to accompany Dante.

Dante is quick to speak to his master, “I am still a bit shaken from the fear of
the restless rivers of Styx, and the fear that I will never again stand on the
Earth.”

Virgil is distracted by something on the ground and points it out to Dante.

Dante kneels on all fours and finds a burnt out torch, a damp bag of diseased
tobacco, and ashes, which he scrapes all together into a pile. After this
pointless act, he sees a crawlspace and struggles with feverous nerves to remove
a square stone that blocks the small passageway. As the stone finally slides out
of the precipice, Dante moves under thunderous roars of what seems to be an
earthquake. As he arrives at the opposite end of the tunnel, he moves onward
through a gate and across a rickety bridge, crossing it quickly as the stark
scenery all disappears behind him. Virgil, through some psychological game,
emerges at the other end of the bridge and is quite cheerful, all decked out in
a white robe (marked by the Goddesses of the East.)

Virgil questions, “Why are you so frustrated? Have we not offered you the
world?”

Dante explains, “I have to get to the treasury and escape this dementia.”

Virgil’s voice becomes louder, “Do not be upset with me. Everything is the same
as it always was.”

Dante changes the subject, “You taught us that temporal existence is realistic
and yet if I remember your teachings from childhood, this upsets you, right?”

Virgil becomes louder still, “Take off your clothes and kneel before me, you
smuggler of wicked thoughts—Do not lie and pretend you remember that far back.”

Dante is startled and accidentally spills out the contents of his cloak, thus
causing his wineskin to spill out a few drops of wine onto the floor, which
causes shrieking sounds around the maze.

Virgil screams, “Now, I am enraged!”

Dante hurries away from Virgil, down the circuitous ancient tomb. From behind
him he envisions a haunting emanation of a disfigured creature that reaches into
his chest from behind, clutching onto his heart, squeezing it and tightening the
grip.

The emanation declares, “This is for your reverence to the council of the
Archbishops in charge of depleting the sorcerers of the ancients that have
mocked you for delivering peace unto the Church.”

Dante telepathically discusses this predicament with the creature, “I feel your
icy hand bramble me, but why for my affection of the apostolic council that
seeks falsifiers of my doctrine?”

The emanation answers, also with telepathy, “Because of your use of twisted
nails and stretching racks that would rip apart the damned souls who forgot the
teachings of God. I am angered at the gift love of your sacrificial offerings.”

Dante coughs while upset at the next thing that happens, which is nothing short
of a thin apple core taking the place of his heart.

The lights go out, the maze shifts, and Dante rounds a corner shaking his head
from the fumes in the corridors that have knocked him nearly unconscious—the
lights return (dim at best) and he views a young teenage girl with brown hair
and an over-shirt draped over her tender body. She clicks her feet together.
Dante, having abstained from acts of sexuality for a long while, begins to
caress the leg of the child. She moans from the feeling. He guides his hand up
her leg, noticing her discomfort and excitement—She scoots away a little bit and
he continues to trace her young softness, imposing his lust upon her mind. He
whispers in her ear and she begins to cry, growing increasingly uncomfortable.
Dante glides his hand closer to her inner thigh, softly sweeping her twitching
skin. He carefully extends a finger and tenderly presses it into the middle of
her legs—She twists from ecstasy as he plunges his finger straight into her
moist sacred vagina and slowly pushes more of his hand in. He lays her onto the
ground, with finger still in her body, at which point she trembles and her eyes
close. He removes his hand and wipes her secretions onto her eyelids, kissing
her cheek as he presses himself on her innocent body. He opens his cloak
slightly while removing the girl’s undergarment. He further pushes himself
against her and feels her moisture. Her eyes pop open and she grabs onto Dante’s
hair and pulls him into her.

Uncomfortable by the acceptance of his charitable act of passageway into
adulthood, he pushes her away and stands up, wiping her seminal fluids on his
cloak. He blows her a kiss as she smiles and passes out.

The young girl blinks and awakens whispering to Dante. She picks up a glass
shard and slices open her torso, dripping blood and licking it. Dante crouches
down and tastes the open wound. He removes his dagger and further forms an even
deeper cut around her lower stomach. Engaging his blade into her intestines, he
attacks the innocent flesh, twisting the blade as she cringes and writhes. He
attaches the blade to her intestine and pulls it out of the deep cut, yanking
out vital membranes. She loosens her shakiness and he kneels and bites down on
her organs, swallowing pulpy blood. He ties her hands with her intestines and as
her gut is now fully splayed, she laughs with an orgasmic delight. He wraps the
twisted flesh around her neck and again kisses her cheek. Like a rope, he
attaches the remainder of her intestines to the wall of the tomb, carefully
draping the flesh around a nail on the wall—kissing her one last time, he
collects a few drops of her blood onto a handkerchief, pockets it and she
expires from satisfaction. Dante wipes the blood over his brow and leaves the
young girl to die in comfort. Wishing he could be her, he shrugs, puts away his
dagger and continues into the deepening caverns of the infinite.

Dante thinks to himself that it is time to find the exit.

His thoughts are, “Now I must leave this place, leave my apt speeches, and
whatever is necessary for an urgent escape. Bring me not consolation. I do not
wish to return to where I am from. To seek love at all is an act worse than
suicide itself. If I had a master at all, that would be a greater weakness for
me. In silence I discover the enemy of love is lack of comprehension. I am like
an animal, which changes rapidly from vision to vision in case of its progress.
To remember is to be in a process of violent, self-torture. To forget is
deadlier still. Upon the call of Beatrice, blessed and beautiful, I dropped to
her feet and begged her to put me out of my misery. Her eyes caught fire and her
voice revealed a repulsion at the thought of dead lovers. To this I realize that
a fortunate trap has been set to speed up and slow down thought processes that
are not allowable in any context of the murky underground.”



PART FOUR
MAPPO

Wandering aimlessly through a tropical byway no fusion amidst an intense source
of resource---at last awareness—“now what shall we turn away from” shouts the
crowd, no longer enamored by the cultural imperialism as the days gone yore.
:Girls matter more than boys, for they are the precipice of live—they give and
take lives unless they are of their yoke, which matters not in this pointless
razor sharp witful infirmary of mysticism.” Thought Buddha although so concerned
with his absence that he began vanishing. “Come back Buddha, whispered a child.”

“Buddhists are missing the point of my devira fiction,” response a choir of
angelic hoist that now delivers messages of the ancients with jealous hostility.
Oh Amida! How you have beaten my ways in terms of peaceful reconciliation, for
my existence is painless suicide—saith the Lord---but none alter messianic or
principled wages among your immaterialistic manner of attracting flies to your
destruction.
Awareness to your cause—Reconcile meditation pr be doomed to curse my thoughts.
A woman shrieks in joy and pain—How much longer will we toil for humanity—are we
paid equal sums for our livelihood---Who is in control? What power do we submit
to?
Thresholding snake, gentle yourself like a dove, or perish in an unending
dialectic squabble dame and chance for further fear and fortune.
Once a leader is gone, you will miss him forever, therefore a leader shall not
leave---unless the times change and such.
Another corridor, another money scandal----interpret philosophy and sudden death
awaits—the stranger—implicates of mass of heavy burdens that only a disastrous
Christian would partake of for humiliation and desire to free others from
boundless sins—
Oh, how I have sought to praise Buddha and how he returns the favor with
hardship and isolation—freedom from sexuality butt pulls me under with images
that steer my mind in four directions—a whole, a ship, a mermaid and a
dolphin—Which is fantasized by the third. Are no gods women? Why are the
goddesses gone?
“I believe we let them go in the end to pass on to a leaner futuristic position,
“exclaims a leader R in a fury of slips and crunch-time.
A captain D repeats, “There’s no future in a negative karmic agenda without
hope.”
“As for hope,” A.T. replies in this meeting—“a chance encounter with death will
forever eliminate it—even through transcendence you’ll get your brains bashed
out for instigating a commoner’s war—If not now but by disbelief in instant
gratification, which now that ‘she’s’ gone, she’ll never come back and we all
live forever because of it, St. Mary for you I do mourn…”
Ineffectual and modest, thrives through tormented torrents of waste—for all
returns of over-productivity. When less needs more and more needs less, all
falls apart in saturated negotiations.
Disappear into Zen as a Westerner and it will remain a formal proof of intense
metaphysics displaced in unity and severity of edificatory displays of the
oldest idol—the idol of the Christian ankh-talismanic cross turned blood red in
multiplication without hesitation to free a member from yours o sensei
Confucius—retrain me to delight in freedom as all this hallway expands and
collapses into memory or lack thereof---will you break me? I will not break you!


“Consider the source, if nature’s choice is propaganda for seasonal bliss—always
give them what they want,” says the outsource/
“I thought you spoke against our agenda for wages and lost art forms—you are
either with us or against us, so to speak.”
“Perish unto our ways, or die trying!” Saith the vortices.

J.S. walks nearer to a symposium of dried goods and his taste bids pop a mall on
his tongue, triggering endorphins and exciting brain currents—all awash and
aghast at his dilemma of vegetable digest only—settles for natural dairy,
products, deifying natural products, against an Eastern strain of sacramental
Hinduism—but what is the price of pork chops in the Holy Land’s if it be
sacrificial lambs?
Untapped witticism of the ages—cool me down by firing me up—please me in your
pleasing demeanor—lie often to save face—uncandidly rewrite the book of insanity
into a sanitarium. Clone a god to mock his mildness gently, without a bill left
to pay, until the end of days pay—or are they?
The way to centrism is a waste of well earned money—to this and live forever in
limbo—because money was made to be spent and only two at a time can consummate
without distraction—at least until other enter the memory, “redeems,” saith
Buddha who vanishes quickly after speech.
Buddha commands divine attention:
Demand without demanding
Lose your inhibitions
Do not worry
And kingdom of life is all around us.

Pointless quibble are unmatched around here separate agendas reek of fusion.
Uninterpretable religions separate us for logic’s sake.
So A.T. moves himself around without loss of memory of a secret love and secret
love and many women overload the senses, I will bring them to an ecclesiastical
mindset to remind them that one is no better that the rest—Unless you are able
to rise to the challenge.
Unrest, pity, salvageable demons and awareness of the rest in confusion, will
put you into somnolence and peace and that is overwritten somewhere again
between Earth’s mother and Time’s father—a romance unawares of broken
capabilities to engender sexual prowess is not a lust for a poisonous
antidote—this is why my kingdom perishes intentionally for hours on end—without
irony. Understand?
My nature is natureless, my awareness one…
Why have you described me when I am all—because meditation requires I forget
your manhood and godhood my God and devil, who thirsts for salvation amidst a
cesspool of abstract thoughts, which have gilded a road of such abstraction that
has lead us back to you, my savior.
There is not a saving grace that will move you-you will be cut into pieces and
your body will served among friends---It will hurt.
“You disgust me Jesus,” saith Buddha—“How can you be so non-violent and promote
violence?”
A calm voice answers, “My violence atones for all violence.”
Amida, was your ‘yugen’ reason to leave us—possess me. Thank you—writerly
poetics have very little space in a religious circumference.
So A.T. recorder a mathematical formula that would always lead an absolute
zero—(270 minus Celsius—metric measure—what system we do not understand their
ways at all.)
Duchamp turns to face his pornography with care—in a revisionism of Uncle Tom’s
Cabin?
I disagree holy Lord because I dismiss everyone from the learning curve—your
standard is too high.
Meditate on the word
Buddha to Confucius—I have no words to explain the good or the vil.
Confucius—then orate to me your greatest desire
Buddha—although I have no desires, I do know that women and others like them
want to be treated as equal—But how can you be an equalizer—
Confucius—I’ve never mistreated a woman—
“Well, I have,” thought A.T. “And viciously so, I cannot rely on them to relate
to me.”
W.I. speaks over the mall intercom, “Death to Videodrome, Death to Old Ways and
if you speak your mind, you’ll wind up in bedlam, sir…”
“Freedom of speech is coming back—unless it hurts the body of the gov’t
structure saith M.S. while waiting for L.C. to come out of a dressing room.
Why are we aimless—out sight, out of mind—stop making an ass out of
yourself—unless it is a probable symbol—Do you ‘understang’, senorita?
“I do not understand why you—Lord—are so violent, when you test them for fruits
of peace,” saith Buddha
Jesus replies, “Their whole lives are a test for me and I will fail them if they
cheat…unless permissible.”
A.C., “Please do not,” he says to a mall, “you are here sign.” Anti-Christ
continues, “They are my children as much as they are yours.”
Then you can have them.
I do not understand my own ways—if Zen cannot bring me quietness, what will?
Will you stop my mind before or when I offend you?
K.C. is waiting in the wings and flashes like a lightning bolt, “We all go where
we want to go for whatever reason and it don’t worry me—should it?”
NOPE—the narrator replies
What if I am not an idol, but rather an icon, framed for just wars and liberal
problems to solve—Can you determine the time I’ve wasted.
R.J. thinks to himself, “We may not be in it for the money, but it sure is a lot
nicer when it has value—“
Slaughter, laughter, auditor,
D.K. says, “I disagree, because even when we thought of sex, he became a really
strange idiot.”
Do not think of him as an idiot unless Kurosawa is at pay to perform in a
Dostoyevsky mode of production—
H.C. walks a baby-walker into a store thinking, “Why have they designed this
around me? Where are my flower children—do they think of plants as evil, and if
so why?”
‘Life is a game of chess…whence my opponent saith unto me…that piece cannot be
moved…” Either/Or by Soren Kierkegaard
D.C. replies at a round-table, “If I agree with almost everything in atheism,
then why is spirituality denied.”
I do not have the time to carry this burden other than to a Goddess paradigm,
where I will always fail—saith the narration—
I will allow them to steal but never steal from them another copy of their
Birth, “claims Buddha—“
G.L. is amused, thoroughly, but he is glad not to know what it means to S.SS.
for engendering impetus among the holy flower of Apu’s Goddess—peyote and the
lack of a better cure for it—
Buddha, if you are God, why has mass murder jaded your history?
“They cannot be true followers of religion and kill anyone, my friend of the end
of days,” Saith Buddha—“But tempt me not with worthlessness…”
S. chimes in, “What is worthless to some is worthwhile to me—I’d create a
catastrophe to get you back into my old beliefs—but my Lord knows not the ways
of your shots—I’m buying a Japanese camera to prove it!”
You can do that here-unless propriety attempts to reevaluate a lesson in
overspending.
I will end your charade by teaching you: a)we’re only sometimes in it for the
money, b)we can be reached anytime by anyone, c)that which keeps itself out of
reach is condoned by everyone or condemned by no one OR d) settle the score at a
later date and I will always choose the latter for a ladder to my Golden
throne—Do not change me or I will change you into your object of utmost desire
to end your fears gently and despise opposition for the eternal others. Do not
forsake me, although the delusion is a spare syndrome of old fear tactics—like
picking up brainwave insults and deflecting them for old friends—Again, I say
farewell to old ways—
Clearly you are dabbling with too deep of magnificence for shelter—a maze of
sheltering omnibus that guides you back to the right wing—for disavowal purposes
only.
Do you drain my brain in layin’ your stain? Or do you cope for hours behind your
showers—Pledge your loyal allegiance to the ones that led us best forever—but
not always in a cyclically demanding utopia—barometers do not always meet our
demand—Doth lightly he take to demanding spirits—
Who are you to criticize?
D.P. question to claim, “I have never understood no one better.
(IT IS FINISHED)

PART FIVE
HYMN (SING ALONG)

In exorum delata recordum infiltratum pero leche nunca domine eternum requiem.
Regis en spiritum deliberata en recuerdem en recuerdem felicum pratatorae
requiem. Infedilio morium en parte esta incredible para no es ferocia—Pax en
requiem eternum infernum delictatatus quorum en excelsis reparata la mana. Deo
en eternum prepare. Reparare de la entre cerca nada florae nata delata—Es cierto
de la noche. Describe en firma la eroticae—Relagata me eternum en officiate
desparte me animae. Continuarae especialmente deletarum esta inequibilis ecco
depletum no es necessario. Respartarum en cantanta recordae deliberta te regis
circum relegatae delibertum vihilim lactae eroticae cerca prepare…iconum vidae
anos morium excelsium deo pax carpe lactorium en felice nata delitirium
renunciarum demonae prada naturae interior lesparte deliverum vidarium trece
anum recordatae inferiorium annihilate totem cerca vida topos morium—inferior
nata blancae—liberate anarchum pax inferior. La felice en deleterium nunca passé
febrous capirnicum—Orgium en felatae—respartate vatorum cerca vida en imagum.
Inquisitiviste largum. Exorbatum deleterium en fumagatam comprenderae. Ex ferata
regis separate de regalia en pristinae deceptate cerca dereche en reparante
decepte. Escribe delantae par requiem desirae, en escrite de contract mono
morium grante pax. Cuando tracte con specifice la morium determinate la Diablo
finalmente. Ex patria salvia florae en excremente cuando relative en durando de
mundo. Especialmente cuando tres completa la parte de manos sacrifice de deus.
Cuando noche escrite signae determinate temporarum eternitum satisfactorae
cuando recibum te promisar nunca refusarae. La eternum specificum en accordae
cerca placae encantable specificatorum retiratata. Ex escrite deniable la
eternum devorum spicificata en valorum concernum regis specificae datum para
morium. La contracte devorarum en eternum momente finalmente todo mente panacea.
En spiritare devororum es imagae en todo temporarum—te preparum devorum enterate
sin compliance. En recite de la nacht operata en dispartorium devorarum
diferente todo no la auteur, (es imposible.) Deratata en la noche de inferorum
grantum eternum sufferate en cantata desirable paradiso. En escrite cerca textum
nacht escribe dereche eternitum revilata sin delata cerca linea. Inferata
determinatum en exactum muriom de linea. Afflictate par eternum en cerca
lactatorum. Resparate nunca laceratae cuante disrepare totum contracte sin
concurente de illusioniste. Deteriorium en la reparate subsumata par eternum
tractorium. Cuando la hora la contractatus es—lacaratae en tractorae pax felate
preformata. Severata mana de abscencia de domine para eternum con retatorium e
requiem. En esposa de felice me e nata resparata energata. Inferata delata me
experium eroticae. Ex parata cuando flege en spirita determinum. A filata de
mar—Espiritata denanta sacrificae mantera—recibe eb escribe todo siga basilica.
En latata desperate pax la falta en circe delata. Sin reparata eternum infernum.
Enferata despiclabara parata en encertum craftata la parabla de eternum
inferatum literati experate deleterium cuando la politicum es inferiorum en
eternum delata la miserata deceptata recibum en eternum la ganarium en
subtractum enferata relagata en regalia protectorium para la encantum detracte
purgatorium en felice de distractum preparum resparante enterum en deterium
delata. Escalante denata de detorium eroticae. En expirum en eternum la escrite
decimatae reparta. Reparte de unum ex ferata deleterium. En experium lavatatum
de la murio complica. Expirata en la rasa la maneda spirita. Escrite en la nata
repartate requiem. Esta noche en la dia es experencia sin complica. Reparta
nacht immediamente sufferere sin escrite. Literati en decepte sin de Christe en
la mana florae te. Enterate sin la noche en la dia repare. En deuterium
reparante en apparatum la rata en experiencia. Defatatum eroticae. En Diablo
probablamente no felice en mana en excelsis en un factum en la mundo sin me mana
eroticae. En escrite alterata cuanto resparate delata. La falta de la cerca en
me noche requiem. Operata de la figorum delata. Respirata en retractae en placae
en reparta. En detata me infernum paradise esta nacht. Inferata cuanto en la
noche resparta. Purgatorium en la rata nunca dia felata. Espirite en exporium
nunca returne mundo sin papa. En la falta de la mundo este expirium par ate.
Quibis niche detanata en me escrite comica. En divina recibe de returnum todo.
Solamente en abstractae reparata en deta. En me escrite en infernum lactae nata
eroticae. Deceptata en la musae en la te. Recibum de inequitables de papa
entiende restorata escrite cuando para cantorium. Divinata en craetorum
experanta infernum. La esporum en flanata en recordum abstractae. Animalia en
retata con phenoma spirita. Dominata en la ferata denatata expirum. Falta rama
en la felinae liberatae estrella pax. En recuerdem de cercata cantata recibum
Mana deuterium en estrella en ferace experium. Rectaratum en la bonita estrella
te la gata experium. Defetatum en purgatium cerca tratorum espara. La pax denata
en la quince pax de sin la te nata. Inferiorum en distrata moneda prata mundo
te. Dante falta en la pasa la animalia domine. Cuanto expirae miserable exista.
Determinata es cierto pero pez en placa amicia. Restorata en detorium me familia
agape. Restorate me infernum en maneda abstractum. Reparte la espirite de agape
disparum. Eroticae te Portia en la madre de amor. Parte en la interiorum escribe
cubitum centerium enfrente durantante requiem. Para felice en romana, en el
mundo expirum. Me familia de la perfectum, deterata la mundo. Cantata (Te llamo
me referencia en la biblia cuando pagina abre feminata espirata metaphysique).
Te estrella pagina es determinate en competata es comica. En apparatum me
entiende la regalia espirite la regis estrella cartae memorabilia. Recibir la
todo pax en romana. La regalia en la cerca es un todo repara. Infernicum florae,
plantae, animalae divisum. (En la mundo iqualmente felicite nunca.) Candelabra
restoratae deleterium murium solo para dium. Establise la maneda en todo,
padres, madres, te expirate en murium. Aparate no decepte armada. Inferiorum en
decepte la Chablis deteriorate o eternum inferiorum todo. Inferente te placa en
appartum disparte nunca o fantasia suprema. Contaminata es Diablo preparada todo
paz. Un prepare me expira a la noche morium. Returnum panacea en appratium en
mana. Expirum entre feraca ano mundo icium descripte domine cuanto todo para
extermina. Unum pluribus todo defata vihilum sin serpente. (Maquina es todo.)
Delibertae humanus espirite…experiencia diferente para todo mundo dependente
circumstancia infinitum. Absurdum, expirata, reparta…

Iactae est infernum recordum philosphicum tractatus de romana biblioteque.
Entrata me encantata pratoriae phenomena tan quibi te placum infernum. Instigate
eliminate, para mundo inter como rectum. Regalia para nata restate eroticae. En
excelsis inspirata en anima determina unum moviento desperate vihilum. Inferata
literata escritata en estrella…Inequitable cele noche pero linguiste retractum
hace colorum en denada, espacio y lectorum. Si no dinero es importante todo
destructivo meticodum ninos offensiva mi papas. Los todo preferum realiste de
importante visual. La garbaje nihilismo es passive infernum. Restorum de placa
en mansione paradiso. Pero la ninos separate con dium en eternitum. Latina
comida y casa deliverum paradiso. Pero autorum lo siento para todo en infernum.
Protectiva casa en las montanas cuando cele restorum de todo comida. Si nunca
ninos de serpentine en agau. Para mi dium en manera nunca sin respecta o
destructive la apparati. Eliminare todos daninos en mi cabesa destructivo
originum. Recitum inequitae versimilito recibir encante delibertum. En esposa
future nunca todo passé esposa infernum. La separte lengua desparte inequitum
eternitum para noche todo dium dia practicum tiempo melodium. Ferrum noche en
espana pax de nada la terra. Excelsis reparata fumo future consfesiva
delibertum. Manera es complicare en mi cabesa para eternum deliverum. Estrella
que felice en resposa practicum laudere magnificum. Todos noches en regis para
sobre cele delirium. En escrite palabram canto en la infernum contracte Diablo.
Resortum murium todo en resposa deliverum. Esparatum con revilum grabis noche
esparte delivere pax en manera. Ferroce cele que retortum cuando tiempo cerca
feraca Diablo passé en Christe desparte. Deliverum reparata dema dias es cierto
nunca. Retorte quibus nacht en la feroce conjugare estrella ferum de la
illuminae febrous depende en cele o immanente determinum. Responiva todo humanus
vida en resposa sin infernum. Preparada los ninos de Diablo considerable
encantum pax sin todo resposa dia divisor paradise y la febrosa tractatus.
Recibir inequitum para humanus deliverum autorum. Sans passé tempora o proviso
accepte falso entiende departum. Resposa nunca dium para amore facil responsive
cierto noche sin la inequitum humanus. Apparati confusivo especialmente requirum
(chastity) para eternum craetae la humanus separate para dio eternitum. Eroticae
es returnum en el pasada gnoso felite en tiempo palatial nada para deliverum sin
me debris. Si recibir para transgresivo metodica sin mi constructive eternitum
noche es favorita para avia es nunca recordata en libra cerca. Cuando noche es
un un dium apparati continuum para eternum sin autorum o con autorum confesiva
repetitium es pax en animae. Entiende esta noche cuando dia es deliverum en
resposa esta palabra dificil impresario musicum anterior regalia todo (servants)
de Regis Christe. Musica de azure es magus para espana y provincial Latina.
Tractata en mi encanta para servicio de papa. En durante escuelo matematica
limitum noche referential de repetiva para todo memorium. Espara pax en todo
mundo sin respartate practicum viaje cerca preparada encontrate que desposa
inequitum. En cantable restorum exclusive de eroisa maquina reparare hace
derecho descubriendo para los espasos recuerdos. En regalia modela ferocia la
instinta en reparata comica en despartate futurum. En terminate que le cele es
la todo resparte. Delata la resposa passé intrepretiva sin contesta con ninos
diablos. Resposa deliverum en infernum para cerca contracta. Imposible aparati
cuando repare felicidad. Todos noches en mi escrite febrous y inequitum humanus
todo con feminine en cierto sin respa. Intentivo es deliciosa para interim es
preparade tranquila distancia internum impracticum. Terminata es imposible
contracte diablos sin gustave quid felice en modesta craete. En montanas,
desierto, en espana tranquilidad. Para godiva resurectum en la animus pax
humanus deliverum purgatum en vuelve sin comprate omnipotencium…Vindicatum en
resparte en recordum deliverum nacht requiem. En excelsis que requirem en felice
eroticae. En felice practicarae el nino invierno deliverum. Esposa en estrella
es un todo maquina. Para la tracta en esotericum deliverata pax. En felice en
esposa tranquila respartum. La monstrosito en biblio apocraphio…

Sacfiricae en alterum la responsum en tractate. Manera protective en apparati
deliverum requirem. En un todo nunca para mana deliverum. En iglesia separativa
practicarum continuram en fictiva mediate possibilidad. Que colorum en respata
restorum deliverum confesiva en el todo mundo. En la passé todo communicative en
falso demoincae. En espirite en excelsis reparata felicite. Despartata mundo
nata en lenguarum et que le fin. En restorum deliberate en poeta epica. Requiem
todo comprende y mi todo familia y descubriando en excelsis reparata inequitum.
Continuare en esposa en el future deliverum. En la casa de sabor de nino vide
regis mundo todo. En familia exista preparando en eternum encantum. Regis noche
en la infernum en la manera—mundo todo. Nunca abandonate en traverse tribularum
o practicum—Cuando descbriuando inequita de la padre restorum—pero recordum en
todo histora con inequitum. Deliberata diferencias en la umbra. Umbrae de
sacrificae y la traverse competiva comedium. Patiente requirata nunca patiente
initiative. Pero possible demonstrate todo pictorum mitologica. En la casa
nerviosa verificata actividados con Papacy. En espirite deliquenata no me gusta
falsa dium de mundo y me libro esta importante pero me anima es muy celoso de
factuale desparta. En un todo de memorium es honesta en comica—Pero me memoria
es un todo cuando virtua restorum. Retracta deleta en mi picture de la todo o
convictum. En la rasa diablos todo nunca memorium de espirite. Demand todo de
picture instantamente o el falso distracta. La pictura de pantera es murio pero
me instrumente donatum…

Patrae domine aria en recite quorae denata resparta en lacrae delatorum. Ex
nacht torum en manera espirata encantato recitum. En cele escrite todo humanus
restorum. Muerte en Diablo para todo en dium entiende eternum. Recibire en
regalia preferable sin inequitem. La resposa de dium es patiente para humanus
deliverum nombre para descubriendo. Si la distracta es amore de personas sin
nunca muerte para entiende Christe nino. Todo feminine en future de autorum es
bonita y replaca cele con immaculatum para virgino mama. Christe: Que reparata
la inequitem de animae sutorum presente con desirable muriom todo para offensiva
narrator? Dante: Si, entiende mi dio la personas confusion, para possible en la
iglesia todo protective mundo absurdum rationale. Espirite: Respartate en felice
irreperata inequite. Inebriate que relata en esposa resparta. En manera de la
cele sacrilege media. La todo nacht en la estrella nunca memorium actore de
nacht. Que felice con Aphrodite en la todo resparta. En un umbra de la falmbe
vampire muerte todo eternitum. En la rosa me vasa en me cantata de la endora
finalmente todo suffere eternitum con los todos en biblia Jezebel este muerte
para eternum infernum. En mi esposa es finalmente para abandon con papa. En las
ninas con musica nunca dium requiem. Mi familia de estudiare en la norte dium
para mi. En mi contracra en la pintura es la finalmenta hora de eternitum.
Desierto de demonica es destructivo pero nunca deceptivo dium. En la sciencias
(consumer) todo para eternum mucho sufferere para attempte de me manera siete
tiempos y revista todo eliminum para recordum y deceptum la todo familia en
mundo casas de dium. En resparte de deliverum en escrite todo nunca estudium. La
mirate de finalmente Diablo con returnum devorum nunca returnum mundo para
decepte la autora. Para destructive me todo casas en la suportiva mucho
confusion gendera. Deliverum en la nacht de infernum para decepta casas mundo.
En la manera nunca returnum dium casa deliverum flambé. En la mira todo noche
para estrella estudium para eternitum. Con esposa de Diablo deliverum nino
deceptum todo en el mundo. Excorcista es importante cuando recibir espirite de
vampira. En escrite de gobierno destructivo falso religion. En me visita la
coruptiva capital en falso objetas replaca trinitum. Sin me icon de eternum
nunca comprenda secretiva de Christe sin mundo. En la manera mucho vino grante
mucho feminine en el dium deliverum con architectura de estrellas con la rasas y
deliverum mucho calorum en el cele la exclusive para nunca sacrificia todo el
Christe es no importante sabor es compasivo para replaca con idols. Para dio
amore mundo, el poner nino solamente, que todo personas entiende nunca muerte
pero recibir vida eternal. Deliverum me musica de la mentor en estrella eternum
para continuum habitation sin compana todo deceptive en la habitation para
deliverum consumptive de la casas de todo deceptum. Recibum en cerca de
finalmente todo filosofica, de nino amore la escuela en manera Paradiso para
nunca returnum hace completa perspective de vide eternum. Esposa en passé es
bonita pero no completa traditione Latina. Jesu Christe depletiva la autorum
todo cuando la Diablo es establise en infernum sufferere solamente todo eternum
infinitum o terminate. Esposa futurum es bonita pero nunca passé familia la
iglesia porque la mundo dium es compasivo en patrae solo. El es cierto nunca
respetiva autorum recibir espirite todo dium, todo hora y todo pardone. La
patrae de Italia es Regis para la eternitum. La expletive en infernum epirite
lactae. Nueva patrae es recibir la trinitum para pardone mucho manera en autorum
delirium y flambe con flambe es pax en la eternum requiem. Si manera recibe en
felice eternum, mundo otro feminine ideal sin returnum Paradiso. Autorum
descubriendo mucho ellas en vida pero la craeta es todo importante. Ellas sin la
autorum amore innocent mucho pero vida es vive con permission (granted).
Recuerdo ellas con amore future (accept) sin (remorse) o celoso espirite. Si la
santa en passé es immaculate y tu cercas es dificil conjugar—Ellas escritas
amore la autorum sin sensitive o con compasivo porque nunca mundo resolve
problemas subjective, comida otro, (masculine) apparati y opinion de buenos
“diablos” escrites. (O feminine sin la rasa inequitem.) Accept la sacrificae con
passé dium sin dictate ellas vidas. Christe approve de cerca finalmente con
ellas todo bien. Insignifica para todo restorata en autoritaria regis. Perfecte
mucho en phenomena restorata. En estrella que felice en el todo universal.
Practicarum en deliberate todo apparati. En resparum nada gusta infernum
deliberta. En mundial me restorum pacifica Christe perfecto, todo mundial
fragmente. Que nosotro en repsosa recuerdo vide todo. En excelsis noche
deliverum Francis. Impresario nombre sacrae protectorum. Pax en rata requirum
nada en un familia. Deliverum mi casa de madre en manera. Restorum de espirite
que felice deliverum maniqua. En regalia deliverum en recordum estrella. Mutual
en respite mi nueva compana eternum. En sufferata me familia muerte protective
en contracta restorum. En preparum en eternum significa en me cele celebrate en
eroticae regalia. Resparata en mi familia delata deliberta. Em infernum eternum
deliberta. Nunca todo la felice en restorum aparati. En mi espirite divisor.
Deliberata fenomenata en resposa delerata. En excelsis dium craeta en el mundo
deliverta. En excelsis requiem. En regalia regis denata illuminata mundial.
Reparanda en denata preparanda significa. Quorum regata subtracticum. Que felice
en esposa significa. En un todo resparata el deliverta. Patrae eternum, patrae
manera deliverum iqualmente significa…

Escrite: Viaje cercas solamente sin compana o comprende locale. Sin descubriendo
la familia en mundo refactorum es todo amore, el recibir espirite con cuatro o
cinco. Gustar cerca sin finalmente con musica. Para la transgressions con
completa y recibum mas vide con mas aggression. En la umbra de Christe eternum
continuum para eternum sin completa o pasigana con (advantage of escape.) Sin
comprende todos otros con la carta, celsoso espirite sin materials es mucho
triste y impatiante…

REFRAIN
Sun’s own radiance of faint light
Then did you shine on a golden day’s might

Like the minds’ eye coming from a stream
A man in full armor running in full steam

He was stirred by the brother
Like an eagle, he flew above her

Beaming at our gates of hell
Fighting with men and dragons as well

As he did cry conquest abroad
His fate was not admired by God

He faced his opponent, both dying spear to spear
His name is remembered year after year

Many the wonders but nothing
Stranger than man can this world bring
The sea in winter’s storm I sing
Makes paths through roaring waves of the king

The birds he snares and leads
Wild beast tribe that dances and bleeds
The salty brood of sea with its reeds
And the clever man with all of his deeds

He controls with craft the beasts of open air
Language and thought leave nothing more to bear
He has taught himself shelter from the coldest stare
He faces no future and is helpless to repair

There’s only death he cannot escape now
He’s beyond all cure from which we allow
Clever beyond all dreams, he will bow
He honors laws to give and endow

Fortunate whose lives have no test of pain
Because there are those shaken up by God
They escape no kind of doom
The waves of the sea beat and applaud

Ancient the sorrow of this house is known
Dead men’s grief returns to fall on grief
No generation can free the next
There is no escape from despair’s thief

So now the light goes out
On the man’s house whilst the knife
Severs the remaining root
The remaining root of life

Any greatness in human life brings misery
Man knows nothing until he walks into the flame
The bad becomes the good
When the spell of fear is always the same

Love is unconquered in fight
You rest in the bosom of light

You cross the sea
Madness enough for me

You twist the minds of the just
You lure us all into lust

You made this quarrel of the kindred now
Desire is clear from a bride’s own bow

No man can fight against those at play
I’m carried beyond all bounds of the day

With praise as your reward you will go
With fame you travel to vaults of dead below

Alone among mortals will you descend
In life to the House of Death in the end

Fate has terrible power
Rage at God for an undefined hour

As the terror of madness drives you to fear
The God of this world will not come near

Dark are the eyes that avenge father and mother
She should have known that she could not save her brother

Like Cleopatra also the princess of an ancient house
Truth is Antigone leaves behind her spouse

Seen in glaring flame, high on the mount
Seen by more than numbers count

The town will be saved in honor to her
Leader in dance of fire pulsing star’s blur

Child of God be manifest
The cry is heard by the blessed.

Our happiness depends on wisdom all the way
God must have his ultimate due today

Great words of men of pride
Bring greater blows upon them when they hide

Wisdom comes to the old…




“I never wanted it to end this way, my love, my darling.”
--Ozzy

“...as (the disciples) sailed (Jesus) fell asleep. When a squall came down on
the lake the boat started taking in water and they found themselves in danger.
So they went to rouse him saying, ‘Master! Master! We are going down!’ Then he
woke up and rebuked the wind and the rough water; and they subsided and it was
calm again. He said to them, ‘Where is your faith?’”
--The New Testament




EPILOGUE
A SONNET FOR DIANE AND PERSEPHONE
Their new wheel spinning is a joy to choose
It is far before that which will vanish
I fear the worst for those that always lose
Creep to me my fear of death and joy banish
Still deaden birth or love again rings
And with my penance I will ignore frost
Will windows leave an open wound for my stings
set a circle guide us lost
drink from Hades wrath
ablaze a gorgeous wonder steal
set down into icy bath
gone are the days of real
Now in Hades run from the ever new fear
And drink from thirsty eyes when aqueer.



About the Author:
Up and coming novelist Aaron Sheley makes his first venture into this world and
the next by illuminating and predicting Dante’s Purgatory in this book Paradise
Faust. His other projects include a variety of motion picture scripts, film
criticism and cinema production. However, here is the first of his novels, which
wasn’t easy to write—but a whole lot of fun. After his free time of saving the
world via his internet connection (contacting all three branches of gov’t to
make the world a better place) and now the only reward he wants now is to find
the “real” Whore of Babylon and screw her…hopefully with the help of Cornell
Grad and High School Teacher Matt Crowe. Of course, they will have to find a way
to annul Aaron’s divorce agreement first!





























CRITICISM FOR Paradise Faust

“Once again, Aaron Sheley has constructed a madcap, phantasmagoric wonder-world
built upon the furthest reaches of logic, absurdity, devious imagination, and
deconstructionist philosophy gone awry. Like a latter-day Philip K. Dick, Sheley
delights in conjuring up and ossifying universes based on his own singular and
warped perspective of this outrageous dreamscape that the rest of us refer to as
reality…and then slowly obliterates them…to the great satisfaction of the reader
himself. Passion, purity and profundity are the cornerstones of ‘Paradise
Faust.’"




--Mathew Klickstein NOVELIST/SCREENWRITER







CINE BIBLE BEGINS (OLD TESTAMENT)
By Aaron Sheley
Philosophical Advisor Jason Sheley
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
I—PLATO—REPUBLIC X and ION

For all intensive purposes, the easy way out of the PLATONIC paradigm is to
write him off as an anti-art bigot. There is no summation of equal or
oppositional parts that create a whole—Only an over-driving goal at an
aristocratic society that are favorable to “God” or “gods” and “countries” or
“war.” Yet the unanswerable question in ION opens the metaphysical hotbed: Does
art have to be based on lived experiences or collective memories, hallucinations
of the invisible forms that appear only to those that break free of idealism.
(The irony is that in his explanation of philosopher-kings, he stoops to the
idealist high ground.)

II—ARISTOTLE’S POETICS—

Without a mis-interpretable context, Aristotle categories art into 3 directly
assimilating principles

1- KINESIS—energetic release of artistic impetus—
2- MIMESIS—a struggle for realism (in this case in particularly--)
3- CATHARSIS—the effect of disengaging from a work’s effort to maintain a
purgation of an audiences vested interest in the core value of the art (be the
values understood plainly or figuratively)

Imperatively, this approach to the arts employs differentiation and in
summation, to review ‘energetic, realistic, displacement and a nice long walk
–PERAPAETESIS

III—HORACE—THE ART OF POETRY
LATIN HEADING DEFINED
1. Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam, loosely: Men equally understand the
point of a picture (Herein is the key to Horace’s broad strokes of diction and
automatic flow of pensive and circumstantial evidence in self-reflexive poetry
and prose)
IAMBIC DEFINED
2.”Averse consisting of six full-fledged IAMBIC stresses…(Known) as iambic
trimester.”
a—an iambic stress is like a syllabic pattern in which Latin phrases (or the
translation of, follow a pattern of syllabic number codes and in a ‘Shakespeare
sonnet’ rhythmic patterns factor in – as is the oft mistranslated HORACE…

IV—Longinus—ON THE SUBLIME
I. Longinus efforts the task of stripping down outside elemental
Forces that distract, subtract and mediate the phenomenon of the sublime—
A. Through a structural negative unity, he defeats negativity as an example of
reckless encounters with the anti-sublime.

II. Sublime poetics are counter but not separate from:
A. Hyperbolata—(exaggeration)
B. Pleasure—(beware of too much of a good thing, though)
C. Music, Rhythm and Dance
(notions that are always subliminal.)

III. ‘Sublime’ is unaltered by immortality, mortality, forces of nature (good or
evil) and once the imbalance of an extreme over another is reconciled
sublimation as a possibility

V—PLOTINUS—On the Intellectual Beauty
I. Connotes Examples of 'a priori'—a term defined simply as pre-investigation of
Ideas, cosmos and sign posts in mental thinking
Ex: Plotinus deems the world as round and it recreates his artistic vision in
knowing such
II. Wisdom invited in a SPACE, TIME and FORMAL approach
Ex: Plotinus hearkens back to a simplification of absolute ideas and context
dependent upon the changing of the priority of the critic—discover beauty and
transcend the norm through a polytheistic/monotheistic device of evolving,
energetic machinations.

VI. LETTER TO CAN GRANDE DELLA SCALA BY DANTE ALIGHIERI
In this brief epistle, structure and form, belie a radical position of formal
intensity to ratify what Kantian philosophy considers as a critique or Husserl’s
fact evaluation of well-placed contextual metaphors that drive the elemental
passions of a developing art form that embodies its own self-critique.
Furthermore, juxtaposition of unresolved conflicts maintains works of art
credibility in a historical concertedness.

(NOTE: To vary modifiers—or verbosage recalcitrant heavy-headedness is oft used
sparsely or not at all considering the visages length and width, which is
succinct but varies by evolving definitions.)

VII. CHRISTINE DE PISAN
QUERELLE DE LA ROSA
(Curiosity of POEMS)

I. Feminist critique is born in the middle-ages—
A. She wrote the LETTER of GOD’S LOVES—weaving out the unfair translations of
men’s contradictory influence over Biblical scripture—though she cherishes it as
literature.
II. An oppositional reading
A. In her writings she condemns the antifeminist as, insensitive, unjust,
coarse—yet full of idealist imagination.
B. Her intense anti-sin critique does not view the impossibility
Of avoiding sin—yet she encourages an amount of importance behind ‘published’ or
‘private’ documents
NOTE: Although sexism abounded, was this the cause of sin?

XIII. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY---AN APOLOGY FOR POETRY
I. Demystification and remythologization of a class structure---justifying the
religious and a religious as certified artists with no demands
A.) He cautions demands and retreads over legendary prowess
B.) Antecedents take precedent.
(That which comes before informs that which comes after.)
II. Key philosophy of Sidney
a. Kathalou—universal consideration
b. Kathekaston—particular
c. (Aristotle’s concepts of critiquing poetry)
(NOTE: Universal is ideal, particular is ‘real’)
III. Sidney’s Championing of Authorial Reason
a. Any state of mind is able to turn into art through poetry (though the less
caustic the better)
1-leads poetry into strict reasoning
b. Leads to a new textual strategy of my own for critics.
“If you cannot think something nice…don’t think anything at all.”

XIV. JOHN DRYDEN’S AN ESSAY OF DRAMATIC POESY
(in rhyming verse) ‘Hegelian fact: Art History is about victors and victims, but
written by art historians’ (even if it is a pain to class consciousness and
conscience) There is no rhyme or reason why treason is the season/ Of nostalgic
emptiness alone/Late spring eclipsing Early Autumn tone.

The point of this poem is to understand that modern and classical collide often
but do not always mix, though both forms are dying to be in each other’s arms
again. (Yet, no one needs feel guilty for art and entertainment that brings
joy._
Dryden is composing for four reasons
1. To idealize the view of money’s modern corruption
2. Returning to the point that corruption has always led to fame—Fame is power
(in the arts)
3. Power uncorrupted will lead to value (economic and artistic)—i.e. avoid
corruption

X. APHRA BEHN: AN EPISTLE TO THE READER
AND PREFACE TO THE LUCKY CHANCE
2 challenges for feminism
1) To paraphrase L. Ron Hubbard:
‘You cannot be everything for all people at once.’
Or—how early feminists defeat the purpose of endless desire by desiring more
from their desire.
2) To quote Dallas Willard: “Art is two things—an ‘author’ and ‘intent’
AUTHOR: APHRA BEHN INTENT: FEMINISM
Thus the logic of female authorship is twofold ( apart from the above interests)

A. To be adaptable to no singular—masculine ideal
B. Present the “misogynistic” facts as they present themselves—thru reason and
logic (and high and low comedy)
ESSAY: as men wake superficial sacrifices, the rest of the ladies suffer for the
guilt they put upon us through the burden of masculine feats of unfamiliar
strength—(avoid phallogocentrism)

XI. ALEXANDER POPE
AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM
‘Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged.’
-Jesu Christe

PART I-
A lesson in poetical criticism
Watch manners-love word banners-be time spanners—

Part II
Origins of rhyming verse, in rhyming verse

Example in cinema language

Lumiere, Melies, E. Cohl
Invented

Edison, Griffith and W. Disney
Pioneered

Invent (rhymes w. sent pioneer rhymes with hear)

Part III-

I do believe ‘art in the age of mechanical reproduction’
Just had its critical poet’s introduction!

XII-
SAMUEL JOHNSON – THE RAMBLER, No. 4 BIRTH OF POETIC REALISM
Essay response: Extol values of humanism (to the point that anti-humanism is
displayed as aberrant hysteria with no leg to stand on). Thus to exercise free
speech in a humanist paradigm (liberal arts=ART, SCIENCE, PHILOSOPHY (squared))
means that the job to chide over—abundant codes of anti-humanism is for that
contempt reserved.
Rasselas, Chapter 10 (B)
Essay response: Tangible experience in phenomenological experience is worth the
effort to root out negative antiquated beliefs/disbeliefs, ‘Leading to a
discovery of a bridge between old and new ideas.’

PREFACE to Shakespeare (essay response)
From all angles, No need for argument here as Shakespeare’s reverie is displayed
with a healthy balance of balance of form, wordsmith style and tragicomic
content. “Adamant” sonorization lifts the spirits of Shakespeare (admonishes the
lofty height of complete perfection in verse, as well as the ability to defy
chaotic times) In short, the Shakespeare experience is flawless.

XIII-TEXTUAL STRATEGIES: DAVID HUME ON THE STANDARD OF TASTE…essay response:

British consequential/empirical/denominating universal rule of the content is
distinguishable by probable statistics informing good criticism, by reevaluating
problems and rewarding positive behavior through writing. If a ‘text’ (Marxist
approach to a “work” in Hegel’s view) is examined thoroughly by a fact checking
span of time, then rewards of intellects, imaginations, creativities, challenges
will be bestowed upon the style, form and content. Thus, Hume ignores (without
censorship) damaged goods, but rewards everything he enjoys in a strict,
calculative, ethical and moral response.

Humanist Rule: Thou Shalt Not Cheat
Wizard of Outré Zen
METAPHYSICS may be bound by PHYSICS, but PHYSICS are not bound by METAPHYSICS
ALL WE HAVE TO FEAR IS HOOLYWOOD HERSELF
DON’T BE CAREFUL/WITH RESERVATIONS

PART TWO
XIV- IMMANUEL KANT’S, “CRITIQUE OF JUDGMENT.”

Essay Response: This complicated essay provokes a modern awareness of reasoning
through contemplative analyzation—in a strip down collapsible approach to the
end of metaphysics, unless relatable to an automatic plastic response given to
such art forms. The Categorical Imperative (in an Edwin McCann-ian sense) is
useful to design a model of Free Play, inducing characteristic anti-meanings of
words to take the sting off harsh remarks indirectly related to prolong artistic
positions, with the thread-bare assessment of interesting nominals poised to
perfect linguistics and to retrain theorist/critics to never “denote” when there
is a connotation with a negative impact. DULY NOTED

XV- GERMAINE DE STAEL (A CRITICAL PHILOSOPHICAL QUEEN)—ESSAY ON FICTIONS
A startling discovery of the fictive elemental spelunking deserved of the
pre-literacy fact-checking female companionship, which demands accuracy,
factuality and a certain degree of heretical recompense for the masculine
over-voiced author—she demands “verisimilitude” or a polysemic heterogeneity of
the “masculine” to produce the “feminine” and vice versa
--
ON WOMEN WRITER’S
With memorable strengths—the more powerful woman, particularly those that rise
to higher ‘synthetic’ esteem than men in every way, deserve praise and to be
equally treated human—In spite of the disgust leveled upon them by men that
cannot get over themselves, women have always risen to the artist occasion.

Quick note:
Meta-conscious=collective conscience, collective unconscious (i.e. necromancy),
collective conscious, and collective unconscious (i.e. telekinesis)


XVI- (like the current Pope Benedict)
FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER
ON NAÏVE AND SENTIMENTAL POETRY
Duly noted: Philosopher Kings informed to this article KING DESCARTES (dualist)
KING ROBB (theorist) and KING SPINOZA (monist)
Ironic jokes. Gen X: Like I give a Crux. Gen Y: You had to be there. Gen Z:
There is a dark side of Zenophiliac Mania.

In his lucid essay of cleverness, Mr. Schiller delegates awareness to
oppositional camps of structure, to bring about a code of suitability among
gains of artistic use. Structure is often mistaken with a standard and while
grammar—no matter the artistic edifice—competes with a certain space of
irrationality, deifies a critical code of harsh judgment and
self-dishonesty—Gain no pain and gain will flow to you as simply as praying for
tap water, when the spigot already (until a drought) runs freely. The good news:
Some wells of artistic blending never run dry!

XVII – WILLIAM WORDSWORTH—PREFACE TO LYRICAL BALLADS, “DESTINED FOR IMMORTALITY”
(I owe credit to Philo-Kings Dr. McCann, Dr. Cohen and Dr. Yaffe, who taught me
the value of the Meta-ethical copy code)

Essay response: Like a blacksmith of words of words (hidden or fixed): (hidden
being knowledge undiscovered or fixed—within a realm of understanding)—This
author is ameliorated with pleasant thoughts of these combative nomers (nominal
words that maintain presence of thought) (Question: Whose cultural pollution
created the RUT first? The iron-hand of probability falls on religious warfare
that has been taken out of a spiritual realm.)
Saturated in ego, yet full of thoughtful thoughts the drain of over loaded codes
is over-welcome to a desensitized age of over-loaded codes that is over-welcome
to a desensitized age of self delusion—unaware of hidden knowledge and happy to
be blotted out of accidentally imposed over-codes.

STUDY BREAK:
(For this text is a Free Academic Dispensary)
Christian Metz’ Grand Syntagmatique (CHESS FEVER parable, PUDOVKIN style…aka a
Dr. Polan inspired thought)
1. SHOT = PAWN
2. SCENE = PAWNS
3. EPISODIC SYNTAGMA = QUEEN
4. PARALLEL SYNTAGMA = ROOKS
5. ALTERNATING SYNTAGMA = BISHOPS
6. BRACKET SYNTAGMA = KNIGHTS
7. AUTONOMOUS SHOT = KING
8. DESCRIPTIVE SYNTGAMA = COMBINATION MOVE
9. ORDINARY SEQUENCE = ALL OF THE ABOVE

XVIII – SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE
(to be rigid, for a moment, this is post-Kant, post-Locke, and post-Hume)
--
SHAKESPEARE’S JUDGMENT EQUAL TO HIS GENIUS
Coleridge’s whole attitude toward “The Bard” is a free form collage of modern
mentalism and post-'sacreligion' school of free thought—entangled in a web of
demystification and scholastic encouragement—Coleridge tasks the master and
takes us all to him.
--
[Excerpts] From Biographia Literararia
Poetica omnibus distraught
Epic word-game onslaught
Every day we die for art
Lost again – dark in heart
En regalia mi occupado es eschuchen
Escribe, escrite and para eternitum
Factum didactum en referencia
Refractum in inequitem
(Like Gemini and Taurus in search of Sagittarius)
(In laymen’s terms, we are defenders of the philosopher-critic to the end of
time—And Nothing Else Matters.)


XIX—JOHN KEATS [EXCERPTS] FROM A LETTER TO BENJAMIN BAILEY
In Keats’ ‘break-even’ mind-imagination and formal construction precedent a
mitigation of prosaical composition—arguing the Biblical Garden of Eden is
pretty much just an excuse for good poetry. If Adam had not exiled us all from
Paradise, then why else will we be fighting for our lives to make it back in?
--
[EXCERPT] FROM A LETTER TO GEORGE AND THOMAS KEATS

Do not despair, for the spirit of negativity toward this stratagem of codes will
fade and burn into old stigmas without taboo and born language anew.



TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
XX. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY (an old relative of this author…duly noted)
A DEFENCE OF POETRY/ “FOUR AGES OF POETRY”
1. What goes up must not always come down
2. Pray for your 'family’ and they will pray for you
3. Nicest compliment to give your friends, “Right back at you, babe”
Essay Response:
In terms of Shelley’s advanced notion of “Four Ages of Poetry,” he concerns
himself in honest reconciliation with epic Greek Poetry as the origin, a decay
of poetry as the origin, a decay of poetry as the origin, a decay of poetry
before the third stage of Dante and Milton producing the enlightenment phase. In
experience with Shelley’s lineage, he truly venerates the current modus operandi
as a flavorful return to Romanticism, consequentially his respect generated
toward words mirrors the 2nd phase, which is a bit Shakespearian (although,
non-linearity plays a role in categorization) considering his conclusion that
decay is in and of itself a stepping stone to new life.

PAUSE: (Let us give thanks to DAVID H. RICHTER for editing this MONSTROUS book,
A CRITICAL TRADITION---Queens College of the City University of New York)

1. Vanity is meaningless
2. Demanding Thirst meets Deep Spirits
3. Pointless Philosophy meets Mindless Genealogies
4. Selah (musical ending)

XXI.
GEORG WILHELM FRIEDRICH HEGEL
INTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF ART
--
Without a doubt, the seminal aesthetic philosopher of the modern era—Hegel
employs facts of history, lengthy discussions on poetic impetus and concludes
with an orgiastic display of the basic unit of artistic language: poetry. Yet,
his balance of naturalistic forces predates a school of thought that his art
must be created without meaning. His impetus dreads non-didactic, influenceable
in-between hypnosis and hallucination modes of writerly effects that Marx and
Freud would totally exploit in later years. In his stead, Hegel champions a
holistic, total myth of the purest art, exemplifying the need to tax all
artistic powers at once from all the arts at once to bring about an ‘operatic’
total and complete masterwork. (It has been noted by Dr. Cohen that HEGEL would
have loved cinema…duly noted.)

1. KING SCHOPEHAUER RULE: SMOKE IF YOU GOT THEM
2. Thanks to the aid of DAVID MORRIS, my 7th grade teacher, for giving me the
Carnies Journal, and to JIM SEVERSON for the power of acting
3. IMMACULATAE IMMANANCIAE -AMORISTE- IMMUCALUTUM IMMANCIUM
4. (for Catholic readers only): Hail Mary, Mother of God, Blessed are thou among
women and blessed be the fruit of thy womb Jesus…pray for us sinner from now
until the hour of our death.

XXII. RAPLH WALDO EMERSON: THE POET
In eternity practices of moving words to fit tight connections in a limited
space are systemic of nature-worship and sparse isolation in austerity,
authenticity and esoteric. Reach too far for a goal and the “fire” will reproach
you—yet if the poem remains intact than it is awesome to create—with or without
false notions of an unreachable transcendence—whose unreachability is the
closure that erases’ both mystification and mysticality. To erase one’s mind of
the anti-poet (destructive structure) is to embrace meditation on
word—word-games—good or evil—if they are discovered in human life, then all is
well-unlike a “make or break” mental modality, which breaks down lyricism on
many levels.
XXIII. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)
KARL MARX [Excerpt] from the German Ideology
I. Overdeterminism-all histories, ideas, logics, theories, castes, politics etc.
merge into a predestined outcome of a meaningless life with no unmediated
choices and economics do not get chosen, economics choose based on evolution.
II. “camera obscura”—memory input that impresses on the ‘retina’ or eye
mechanisms further leaving behind a reference point for all time concerning an
event that will be repetitious or avoidable. (Like, “silencing a rabble.”)
[EXCERPT] from A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy

In an ethical cross-reference critique of power-structures and idealism, Marx
implicates a stratagem built around obstacles of poorly put together
institutions that fail to encourage artists by pitting them in constant danger
from the slightest unwavering descent away from a rigid body politic—the message
is clear for modern struggles—conformity is one route for survival.

1. Do not forget 0=0 times e/mc squared=1 times 0=0 (Or no nukes is good nukes)
2. As Dr. Joseph Biden once said, “And he still has a pulse…”
3. Secret word of the day is “sexistentialism”
4. “The Holy Grail is a rigid set prop,”—Aaron Sheley

XXIV. MATTHEW ARNOLD
THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM AT THE PRESENT TIME
Or to avoid BOOK LAG remember this phrase from Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, “I
can take the heat!” or “from a skilling spree to a chilling spree…”

Edwin McCann-(Univ. of Southern California school of Philosophy) once said to me
in candid passing, “I can never get my books arranged…” and then to paraphrase
his reason, “It is like Plato keeps knocking the rest off the shelf.”

Function of Criticism—To deploy art as a self-critic, (for example, Poe’s Fall
of the House of Usher, the Metaphor of exacting deterioration of the modern
fabric of religion, supplants the ‘house’ with an erratic superstition—Arnold’s
example of Goethe fits the schemata through realization, actualization, common
sense and disavowal through meditation on words.

THE STUDY OF POETRY (in dated lyric, cerca?)
“Cele manera, estrella en regalia, delibertum,” or in translation: Deliberately
crown (artistic) stars in fine robes and or linens, in the head of the heavens
(eternally).

NOTE: Thank you to America in this 2009, year of our LORD, for inviting an
African-American to the White House, President Obama, who has given us the
wiggle room for this Physical Spell: SCATALOGICAL IMPRACTICUM, which means that
Death is Impractical….unless we just want to agree to disagree, if you catch my
drift.

Merry Xmas, The War is Over—Jon Lennon

XV. FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE
Philosopher King Ross Scimeca would say,
“The Spirit (Geist) of Music”

APOLLO (melody) / DIONYSUS (harmony)

(realism) (formalism)
(anima) (animus)
(war) (wine)
(opulence) (decadence)
(consequence) (freedom)
(ethics) (learning)
(depth) (width)
(size) (shape)
(God) (devils)
(nymphs) (satyrs)
(ascetic) (aesthetic)
(NOTE: All must seek a centrist NICHOMACHEAN or Dr. Jewellian principle of the
GOLDEN MEAN, to balance the powers, do you understand?)

(Recommended Screening TV SERIES hosted by Leonard Maltin, Secret’s Out)

XVI.
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
HENRY JAMES—THE ART OF FICTION

Essay Response:
To interpose a strategic response, James’ further ameliorates artistic
abstraction—ironing out the wrinkles of his preferred medium: ‘realist
literature.’ While he does maintain a profundity toward down-on-their-luck
poverty stricken artists (see also Zola,) he is non-preferential toward
interchanging drama and melodrama, casting no derivative on the losing arts of
‘mental physics” or hyperbolic questions, which are oft better left in the hands
of Science—Philosophically, his compatibility praises the art of prose with
emphatic arrays of deconstructable qualifiers of nominal factoids implanted in a
guilt-free, praise-worthy environment without a loophole at all.

JOKE REMINDER: As Drew Casper would say: “It all went down in the Grand
Guignol…” or as Dr. Hock would say, “This is reciprocity, unhinged…”

Little known fact: GEORGES MELIES is buried in PARIS, FRANCE at Pere-la
chaise…as is OSCAR WILDE

XXVII. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)—OSCAR WILDE—THE DECAY OF LYING

Essay Response:
In a dialogue session between fate and chance in fictitious characters, Wilde
elevates formal elements, which construct a path of “lies” or abstract/ideal
patterns that alleviate causality through pictorial representations of
situations that most likely do not exist. In essence, the article glorifies
non-existent practicality, flinging “bullshit” in the face of caustic reality,
that in turn dissipates factuality, in lieu of an environment that (in the words
of Jack Nicholson in A FEW GOOD MEN) “cannot handle the truth.” In fact, Wilde’s
superior, subliminal writing style is a textual oddity due to pragmatic cadence,
illustrative candor and satisfactory representations, valorizing the “untruth.”

XXVIII. LEO TOLSTOY—WHAT IS ART?

Essay Response:
In general, Tolstoy employs a veracity of “universalism” in a “Christian” mode
of consequence. His work is replete with the questioning of an artistic high
ground, linked with the necessitation of spiritual impetus—to reflect a narrow
margin of said works in defense of a style that reflects the growing world of
Christianity (as to him, a preference for beauty, truth, purity etc.) In his
criteria for representation of the holy, Tolstoy makes no apologies when
condemning the anti-Christian, or secular, media. Yet, his tenacity is coupled
with a suggestive sanctity in accordance to specific ways of reading the
“otherness” of a once derided infusion of the transcendent in arts. By today’s
standards, Tolstoy is a bit phenomenological, yet happenstance sustains his
suggestive battle for the universality of a likelihood to present a Christian
manifestation. (King of the Jews style).

EMIL COHL'S PHANTASMAGORIE

Whence the vaudevillians were stirring up a hornet's nest in a tumultuous time
in France's darkest hours of WWI, prior to this and during, came a poet of
philosophy that engendered an awakening to liberalism at any cost. Emil Cohl
poured over endless literature and awakened the values of animation before all
other legends. His fear of sketch comedy (lightning sketches, to be exact) were
so far from American dramaturgy and cultural pollution that it awakened his
imagery forever to be preserved in the annals of film history.
He formed a routine act with his cohorts, known as the "Incoherents," a group
that engendered awareness among his peers--Melies took great notice of his act
for instance, (as well as contributed to.) However, in his list of the mighty
feats, none will surpass the very first animated feature--PHANTASMAGORIE.
Interestingly enough, the spawn did not occur in one night--but in laborious
hours of hand drawn cells--which, in turn, produced a labyrinth of resonance,
dissidence and arguably profound psychedelic powers--
What separates Cohl from all others, despite his origination of the animated
form, was his pension for disparity and a twisted point of view on all things
that were too "Republican" for him to handle. However, nothing could be further
from repetition than his monolithic, singularly symbolic awareness.
Passion for his film spread like wildfire. Technically, the images are of a
line-form proper that shape shifts into people (his heroes), places (his house)
and things (a baseball bat, etc.) Without reverting to an obvious inheritance of
early stock footage and series photography, he diagrammatically shifted the
paradigm of trick photography that schooled all other animators to come.
Understand now that Cohl is a cinematic wunderkind, his verses display a
thematic correlation to time, speed and figurative motion, without a
predecessor. The effect has never been matched since, although the formalist
camp of film-making owes him everything.
At any rate, the age of muck-raking was coming to an end in the Early Days of
French Cinema, and he awoke to the sole purpose of musicalizing his
imagination--albeit he shredded the realist camp's idealism altogether by
envisioning the postmodern before the age of the postmodern, by shaking up
historical codes into pure meaninglessness.
To do this, he drew white lines across a black canvas and presented a new edge
of cinematic prowess--a line code, followed rigidly and dogmatically, but never
to be perfected in the same respect ever again. The reception of the film was
pointless because hardly anyone understood his potshots at tired allusions.
To round out the conundrums of the true animator code, he animated in a circular
way to his objects, clearing out squares and rectangles for freedom and totally
paved the way for animated shorts like OTTO MESMER'S FELIX THE CAT, WINSOR
MCCAY'S GERTIE THE DINOSAUR and ultimately, the wizardry of WALT DISNEY'S
empirical sound feature STEAMBOAT WILLY.
Not foreseeing that by breaking all rules, he invented them by doing just this,
without a rubric, without the wherewithal and logic and reason were tossed away
for fate and chance. Phantasmagorie actually ends with an unusual boxing match
and "morphs" (to steal a modern term) into various ideas of images before the
time came that anyone else knew how exactly to do this.
His problems were resolved almost instantly as he rode a storm of chaos infused
with magic. He criss-crossed light patterns, forever to burn onto celluloid as
pioneers would never topple, but always submit to his scientific engineering.
French society goes through cycles of decay and enlightenment and so too does
Cohl's imagery expand and collapse, like Kierkegaardian metaphysics, which are
completely subverted to dissipate a "holier than thou" attitude. Diversions were
desperately needed under the bane of conservative hypocrisy. Later, when realism
took control, Cohl's ideations were all but in frequented by viewers and only
later when Animation History was canonized and as Donald Crafton would delegate,
Cohl was a major player in the "Church of Cinema."
His pressurizing of formal technique boldly envisioned a non-hierarchical
democratic approach to reforming dream-like hallucinations, without caustic
endangerment or even a shred of propaganda. His machinery stands out as the
cinema pure envisioned by the Impressionist school (passed down to Duchamp,
Claire, and later Cocteau among others.)
Hypnosis, mind expansion and therapeutic wave-lengths of tripped out
freakishness are all in check, during the wackiest filmed imagery in history.
Avant-garde cinema will never repay the debt owed to Cohl, in fact. His early
sketched out categorization of non-sequiturs created an irony and a certainty of
quality fun, guaranteed to last--although perhaps unknown for generations.
Cinematic animation became like a whole new art form upon this
dawning--exercising no restraints toward impossible feats. Dabbling with a
magician's prowess instigated a designed fabric of split up film forms to a
reach of undeniable metaphors, though not dangerous or haunting (as Blackton's
HAUNTED HOUSE and the alchemy of Harry Smith proves to be in future drastic
times.)
Rounding out what seemed to be a bottomless cycle of rehash, Cohl repositioned
his misalignment to push the boundaries of a medium, now disfigured thanks to
him--repositioning his camera's steadiness by moving the image rather than by
moving the placement of the camera.
Without a priori motives, his conditioned response is the impetus for all things
ecstatic in an under-pressurized medium of Lumiere's and Edison's event film
actualities.
Drawing in on a resource of projected non-ideologies, or counter-hegemonic
margins, the liberal centrist approach took Cohl's artwork to a non-kitsch
extreme by valorizing the peculiarity of the dark ages of a quagmire of
out-of-date cinema-though the whole form had barely begun.
Ephemeral, ethereal and non-redundancy shakes up the retread so commonly exposed
by non-animators. Once the "feature" length devices of Reiniger's PRINCE ACHMED,
Disney's SNOW WHITE and the Fleischer's GULLIVER'S TRAVELS kicked in, the short
forms of Cohl's hidden knowledge were under exposed. To venture into the realm
of comics, cartoons and new CGI, were heralded by this old magi's gift of
animation invention.
With exacting preciseness, beguilement and abstraction in a pleasant sense,
deformed structure is bar-none next to Cohl's par excellence. Playing one end of
a drawing out, shaping it into another and locking down on the instigation of a
new medium, Cohl provided the toys and the playground to the wave of subterfuge
and his prologue is no doubt unforgettable after viewing.
What future animators may take from his whimsy is not to be made light of, as
the entire form owes to his credit. To sing his praises, even to the point of
sycophancy, is not a problem, as though he never sought exposure, he certainly
earns a respectability among the illuminating caricurates of his own "mad"
invent.
In short, Cohl pioneered, structured, formulated and envisioned, a rustic,
teleological perforation on the distinct qualities of animated "auteurism"; No
compromises necessary. Informed by political cartoons in newspapers (having his
hand in so many of them, at any rate,) infused his sculpture and plasticity into
a medium for a never-ending cycle of regeneration.
Imposing no rationality except in a scientific sense, Cohl exposed the secret of
cinema's dualistic (and now triangular with TV having risen to the challenge)
taxonomical advent of animation. Thanks to PHANTASMAGORIE for realigning the
early scriptures of cinema studies. Receive the film with care and the rewards
are endless, in this particular mode of representation.

---AARON SHELEY (HONORS CINEMA) JULY 2009

En el pequena ciudades la encierto condiciones todos las dias hace la estados
unidos ayudarno para aqui. Entiende condiciones rapidmente decision ayudar con
otros pais en el mundo vide la cine de tres (o otro cine felicidad.) Sin cierto
quien es el exactamente director de SOY CUBA para el es maestro y escrite con
palabras importante.
En problemas de cine imperfecto impractacal personas en mundo de separatar,
porque todos personas es siempre decision de peligrosa. Cuando peligrosa y
danino es presente personas que cultural diferencias para "polucion de cultural"
no es recomendar en otro naciones. La ultima vision de Soy Cuba es el
descrubiendo classista para tres puntas: No racistas, no classistas y no
sexistas.
Cuando la migrant trabajo es muy dificil, la pelicula van grande escuchan todo
problemas de CUBA para recuerdo lesiones. En responsiva fiestas y buenos tiempos
presente nada en historia de cine (hace Coppola pones pelicula en registrar de
historia con importante restoration.)
Cine es mucho gusta memoria grande de era el "passe" cuando agriculturalistas
ver la un position y chicas bonitas baile en celebracion. Musica de Soy Cuba es
sin problema, provisar cuando todo siempre entiende cultural de Cuba. En minutos
personas entiende fiesta de "revolucion" para no otros culturales otro solamente
Cuba, cuando es muy ideal para historia de cine.
La peliculas es sobre dos horas y muy famosa en Cuba cuando "imperfecto" es el
general subjetivo en pasado y con intereste gobierno ayudame peliculas deniro
todos.
Sin decision de oeste perspetiva grande distraction con libros no deniro pero
muy importante para literario de cine. Cerca de mundo, cine es cerca en ropas
tradicional para Cuba en tiempo y espacio "Latin America."
Otros cines de espanol en similar objetivos es futuro de general entiende con
importante viste: EL NORTE, MEMORIES OF UNDERDEVELOPMENT y MACARIO etc. Viajar
de pais de regis en pobre personas, deniro para otro cine es ideal para todos
espacios de visitar.
La problema de otros paises es seminal occurando porque cultural egoista y
capitales federales no entiende importante sequencias de estudiar.
En famosa sequencias tradicion es representando en muy importante en el camera
representar. Cerca de causas en clases de cine (en Los Angelos para ejemplar)
importante imperativo en decision de cultural "decoupage" o envisar dirrecion de
poner el camera y viajar camera es importante.
De entiende esposas y trabajando la "migrant" es celebriando el mundo ayudar
para exactemente precisiones cines. Escuchen la escrite hace todo pelicula
terminar y no esta personas ser mala en apreciacion.
Cuando entiende practicar cine en pais de no mucho dinero--cine de Cuba no es
exploitiva para es estrano de personas sin explorar. En resulte, cultural
guerros continuar para no responsiva necesita en nueva cine comprende
importante.

Estudiante espanol escriten de Aaron Sheley

In private I confide in you over a miserable load of guilt I have carried for
the sufferings of my burdensome confession:

I basically got dumb and unwise in chemistry class and flaunted my cheating
powers all over the school. Foolish living, I know,

Anyway, here is a formula that may redeem my grade:

Tungsten
----
A light Source Element

Bromine
-----
Heavier chems--cleans house

Hydrogen
-----
Easiest, lightest of chems *most naturalistic

Chloride
---
Heavier Element, de-germinates pools etc.

Zinc
---
Heaviest Chemicals in Earth Elements

Oxygen
-----
Do not breath around this concoction (or at least wear a mask).

Sulfur
------
(a compound aggregate of sulphates---chemical-mineral)


What is Hydrogen Sulfite? (Combination of these chemical-elements in an ionic
compound compatible with neurons, atoms, isotopes, electrons and protons, all
added, subtracted and multiplied to combine...just don't drink it because it is
a natural chemical!)

--only a theory

DONE WITH MAKEUP EXAMS, Move on to TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample pages)
Words to meditate on
PANDORA—ICARUS—

And XXIX. SIGMUND FREUD
I. Creative Writers and Daydreaming—Interpellation
A. Sounding Board for the Sexual Struggles of Humankind.
a) Theoretics create conflicts—resolved through artistic expression
B. Three Types of Dreams (like a Josephian or Daniel-like translations)

SUPEREGO-1.Anxiety-unfullfillable repression (collective unconscious
Ego—2. Reality-functional dreams (collective conscious meets conscience)
id – 3. Wish—Fulfillment-decisive anti-repression (collective subconscious)
II. The Theme of the THREE CASKETS
“Between the ‘Mind’ and the ‘Body’ there must be ‘Heart’” --Fritz Lang’s
Metropolis
(BRICOLAGE)

A. Mother—Anal Phase—“Ever since we left the womb, we want back in.”
B. Wife—MIRROR PHASE—To Die Unto Yourself and Your Loved One
C. Daughter—Oral Phase—To teach her which man to choose, “or is he good at oral
sex?!”
The question remains, which would you choose, if you could not have all three?
Save one for a hopeful invention of METROPOLIS the video game (wink, wink,
nudge, nudge)
Auteur of the Moment: Henry Jaglom (for further info on his independent style,
seek out JASON SQUIRE’s Movie Business Book)

XXX. T.S. ELIOT—TRADITION AND THE INDIVIDUAL TALENT—poem response (stream of
consciousness.)
Everywhere there is dire need
To save the world from death
Again, the relationships we have
Come to vanity and nothingness
Random chance, time and fate
Deplete us of our will
And what God of the living
Returns us to our offering
If we save time and learn
From mistakes—the war ends, no one dies and
Eternal life is granted forever—
A.S. to T.S.
XXXI. CARL JUNG—ON THE RELATION OF ANAYLTICAL PSYCHOLOGY TO POETRY
“If you think it is just a film, think again…”—Jon Wagner paraphrased
“Christ and the Anti-Christ were born of the same God…”—A.S.

When taken into effect, Jungian principles applied are a healthy account of
technical, scientific compensative loaded to the bag with brain
chemistry—dissolving into an artistic symbology. Equipped with style, class,
transcendence and evolution, time proves this articulation of eventual artistic
progress is a “grass roots” project—for time tests us all.

HERE IS A GRID OF THE JUNGIAN PRINCIPLE ARCHETYPES (Magic Lantern Slide, RIGHTS
OF ENTRANCE #13)

HERA—Goddess of Life
x-axis
(vertical) (water)
(y-axis stigma) (horizontal) APHRODITE—Goddess of Love-EGO—A-WILL
B-DETERMINISM
C=2 (pi) r C- LIFE LESSONS

Styzygy: Anima—Mother’s (Sun) Womb—Animus—APOLLONIA—Goddess of Peace: D-Total
Status, E-Ephemeral, F-Narrowcasting
ANIMA (horizon) : D-Freelove, E-Energy, F-Diaspora (z-axis) (depth)
ATHENA--Goddess of Justice: Shadow—A. Umbra-Comfort Zone i.e. sleep, B.
Flickering Images—i.e. cinema, C.Bottom—Lifelessness-death
[Life’s Justice, Love’s Peace…that is Carl Jung’s ‘occult’ on a grid!]

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)


XXXII—MIKHAIL BAKHTIN—DISCOURSE IN THE NOVEL

Novel of testing—Semantic clearance, with no price to pay except solving dilemma
of word games—test which words to use and not to use. (words are transmitted
through influence, reading and multiple pending documented texts)

Novel of education—Upon default transmission, careful undertakings mince
responses with a fine grain word dispersal—for clarification, grammatical
compuncture and a whole lot less confusion concerning the future of the
importance of being a reader in a ‘win-win situation’

Problems of Dostoevksy’s Poetics
While full of caustic intent, “Notes From Underground” steadies the course of
reasonable fashions through “loopholes” or asides that denigrate a constant
redundancy in non-existential literature—in turn, an approach to a
non-problematic text would be to counter-attack Dostoevsky’s insecurities with
critical affirmations of dialogical excellence. To reify lengthy diatribes,
which often lead to excessive nullifying over-codes, symbolic logic has sought a
genteel structuralist approach for preservation.

REQUIRED SCREENING: “THE EARRINGS OF MADAME de... by Max Ophuls”

XXXIII. Textual Strategies (sample)
VIRIGNIA WOOLF—A ROOM OF ONE’S OWN

Shakespeare’s Sister
In an interesting bio-pictograph language of Shakespeare is interpretive through
the psychological dilemmas, frequented in practicality due to familial
pressures. The pressure cooker that heartfelt sympathies of “dead” famous people
around him, self-destructing or self-indulging or self-centered attributes in a
fashionable self-examination on Shakespeare’s noble part.

Austen-Bronte-Eliot
Jane Austen- V.W. writes of her determinants, her triumph in a patriarchal
society, her feminine authorship talent and her unusual ability to tame the
beast of masculinity.

Bronte—Without a doubt an antecedent, of the disparate baggage left by Austen’s
soothing qualities. Bronte sharpens wit, minces words and takes a few risks
along the way. The ghost story in WUTHERING HEIGHTS is the cream of the crop (or
crim-de-la-crim)

Eliot—knowledge of the “transcendent” author George Eliot, is downplayed by
V.W., yet not forgotten. He is a rugged individualist preferred by female
critics for his maintenance of talent and common professionalism.

STILL BOUND BY PHYSICS

XXXIV. HEIDEGGER—HOLDERLIN and THE ESSENCE OF POETRY

Essay Response: In the abbreviations of interpretive grandeur, newer theories of
poetics divulge a resource of Heidegger’s Holderlin diegesis (conclusive to say
the least.) To a degree, Holderlin diegesis (conclusive to say the least.) To a
degree, Heidegger’s existential category, never supersedes his love for gifted
authors of poetry. He argues that while words are dangerous, poetry never
is—although that does not mean that preferences to a selection are not allowed.
In theory and practice, poetics tame the beast of words, fulfilling a premise
heretofore irreconcilable—the modern way of examining bleak nostalgia is healed
by the essence of journeying through a time table to instigate exorcisms of an
art that has been denigrated long enough. ( Even though Heidegger was a Nazi,
his theories create dreams for a dreamer.)

Lighten up to this irony: ‘I’ve never met a drug I didn’t like’…’but I only ask
that no one follows me to where I am going….’ (A Matt Klicksteinian type
proverb)

Matt Crowe—This is the ‘youth’ of America…

XV. HISTORICAL INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE
BY EDMUND WILSON
(“and still do I miss the Princess of Persia, may her soul travel to the spirit
land”)
Essay response:
While difficult to play favorites in the course of immaterial analytic studies,
Wilson makes a case of historical significance that the better the artwork in a
critical stance, the longer it is preserved throughout history. However, his
elitism and lack of ability to defeat other artworks that do not appear to
interesting to him, may in fact conjoin to a larger body of evolving works.
He avoids hypocrisy by eliminating the stance-of ultra-causality—although throws
caution to the wind in his rampaging course of linguistics, sociology and turns
the idea that criticism may devalue classy literature according to when and when
not the appropriate timing to divulge in certain art forms is necessary. Without
question, his article involves excellent grammar.
Marx and Freud factor into his interpretative dilemma, and with certain books
going out of date, he delivers no reason to deceive that they will not be
valuable again—yet his anti-censorship stance remains all too elite!

XVI. KENNETH BURKE
SYMBOLIC ACTION IN A POEM BY KEATS
I. Epistemology
--the study of thought process “Or, why I miss David Carradine a lot.”
--Understanding scientific brain chemistry in subterfuge
In Keats’ terms the wizardry of his words take on a challenging, yet soothing
effect, “Or, why did THE KING OF POP..Michael Jackson, die too early? Or what
happened to the Los Angeles McNair Family?” (more on this later).

II. Epiphenomenology—
--Evolution of word games, experienced
--Metaphysical logic, tangentalized
In Keat’s poetry his experiences informed his consciousness, which frames his
artwork without redundant over-codes.

Literature as Equipment for Living
Essay response: Burke’s animate frequent discovery of a gateway to
connectiveness and collectiveness is repudiated by nothing due to his careful
determination of resourceful influence. In other words, many author’s attribute
to a singular authorship, which makes it difficult to examine only one author as
a source of individualism. In effect, while social strategies declare a fit
perspective on fixed category, if all the other categories are left out, than
the reader forgets to whom the vast attributory streams influence an author’s
variability.

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Because my ex-wife saved me from death..nearly walked into
traffic in France…I owe her my life, forever…) Thank you Dr. Chandra Khan for
awakening me to this ‘realization.’

PHILO-KINGS OF CHOICE BETRAND RUSSELL and ZIZEK

XXXVII. F.R. Leavis
[excerpt] From the Great Tradition
In defense of a battalion of pro-feminist discoveries, the worlds in which the
profound author’s Jane Austen and The Brontes live in modes quite aloof and
indifferent to their practices. Faithful studies instigate a posited nominal
rejoinder of masculine redemption necessary to canonize the anti-hegemonic
replay of female’s space—in turn this allows for immanence and equality, once
the keys were handed over from male critics, the books that the females
represented were finally in the arena—The great female authors are typically
marginalized until male critics allow them access. Wouldn’t it be nice if women
could make their own way into proven literacy throughout the ages without men
spoiling all the fun? Why does the test of time have to be controlled by
masculine power? Perhaps because, for now, it is what it is.

XXXVIII. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample) LIONEL TRILLING
“If there are 6 billion people in the world, with an average of 80 years to
live, then perhaps in 80 years 6 billion people will die…”—Aaron Sheley (mood:
artfully confused, ‘It’s a God-Country-Cinema thing’)
“All entertainment is art, but not all art is entertainment..” Dr. Drew Casper
Trilling nullifies the pro-religious stance that art is some all encompassing
God—in fact, the lighter side of a liberal education is its acceptance of views,
which are often counter to the acts of wrong-doings justified by religion and
other conservative annoyances that lead to folly and over-sized egotism. In
fact, often times when artists denounce God, their work becomes figuratively
stronger—without a dogmatic environment of rigidity that hypocritically defeats
“structural” logic. In mixing many cultures, many ideas and a fair trade of
emotive and intellectual ideas of no instigations become necessary. Putting up
blinders to institutionalized “holy wars” will, in fact, settle the score, and
artistic leverage becomes an understandable playing field.

(SIDE TANGENT: Remember, this author [A.S.] received a GPA of 3.693 only .007
under Magna Cum Laude…but that was in undergraduate school…at USC)

XXXIX. JEAN-PAUL SARTRE, “Why Write?”
Essay response: In lieu of the quizzical eschatological permeation of
dissipation among authorial disposition, Sartre delegates a response of
pre-disposed ‘writerly’ institutions—albeit intuitively. In response to his
question “Why Write?” he provides several answers:
a. Freedom—which is a task that he believes comes naturally to the gifted.
b. Existence—or an art that only deals with art itself and is at the core
meaningless
c. Oppression—because a modern response to “generational curses” would be to
take upon the curse unto oneself—in order to alleviate the oppression imposed
upon “the otherness” in a non-transcendental but quite sociological stance.

STUDY BREAK:
To: Steve Erickson
DONOVAN’S TROUBADOUR
Purgation in the name of artistic flow has always been a benchmark and high
water mark of the indexical, iconic power of Donovan—known for MELLOW YELLOW,
legend of ATLANTIS, reckless balladeering in AGE OF TREASON or SEASONS OF THE
WITCH and inspiring cordial invitations to nostalgia in COLOURS. Don’t miss a
single track of this unrelenting testament to musicality, replayability and
furthermore a reach into the psyche of an era gone by. GUINEVERE is a study on
the fall of Camelot. Try out the UNIVERSAL SOLDIER track, for a well played
delineation of Soldier Boy struggles. Damascus is a blinding road, so be sure to
lock into Donovan on any road trip and you will not miss the goods he delivers
on a grand funk scale—Forever and always a love album to unburden exacting hurt
and pain, washed clean in Donovan baptism.

FOOD RECIPE: (BURGER MANIA)
Garlic Goat Burgers
Ingredients:
½ Ounce Feta Cheese
2/3 tablespoon of sliced Garlic
2 1/3 patties of Fresh Ground Beef (angus perhaps?)
½ tablespoon BBQ Sauce
1 bottle of beer (Budweiser in particular)
A dash of onion salt and chili pepper.
Buns of choice.

Preparation instructions: Grill two patties of pounded ground beef..meanwhile
spice patties with onion salt and chili pepper. Drink a bit of beer, while
dabbling a bit of the fluids onto the patties.. Once cooked to liking
(preferably medium/medium-rare) place cheese onto patties to allow to a melt.
Drizzle on the BBQ sauce. For a brief while, grill the buns of choosing, Remove
patties from grill, and remove the buns. Dash the garlic onto the patties, add
whatever other condiments you can handle before you need alka seltzer, and bon
appétit.

STUDY BREAK (cont)
The GRAVE DANGER I had on my VISION QUEST ended with this SPIRIT GUIDE NAME:
NUCLEAR SHAMAN (fact or fiction)—A.T.S.

Fair Trade agreement rules
EMBARGO IMPOSED=No trade until the war is over…
TAXES IMPOSED-No trade without commission

Here’s a gibberish riddle: Thwart the Boon Block For the Noob Trot.

Be wise as serpents (GAL KOOB, an irrationalist name) but be gentle as doves…

I love my pipe because Magritte the painter loved his painting of one.

When does unlimitedness stop and limitedness begin?

GODFATHER PROVERB: “I will do anything you ask of me, insofar as I swear never
to ask of you any favors in return…”
LES VAMPIRES/GEURANDE PROVERB: If you weren’t there to see all of what happened
than you do not have enough evidence to EVER solve the problem.

SUGGESTED READING: Thomas De Quincey’s Confessions of an Opium Eater

THREE RULES TO FEND OFF TEMPTATION
1. The world is not ours to give…
2. Tests are frustrating…
3. Live off the words written down that work for you…
4. BE QUICK TO FORGIVE

HUMILITY IS MEANING

End Transmission with a strange palindrome: NARCOSIZORROZIOCARN…
(more tomorrow) including how I drank from a storm drain while homeless in L.A.
etc etc. (The Bad News is that it was my own ‘fucking’ fault that I went all
‘kamikaze’—a figure of speech-- homeless style…)

Let us pause to remember the ways of the ‘sub-genius’ or as GOOD WILL HUNTING
attests, “It is not your fault.”

MOVING ON…
Here is another grid to lighten up my political views:

Religious Tolerance
Illumined Ones (-i. agency, -a. artisans)
THE FAR LEFT
MOVIE: ‘FAREWELL TO OLD WAYS,” by Chairman
Mao--Dictatorship---Communism----Socialism----DEMOCRACY--Centrism---Republicanism---Libertarianism---Anarchism----Fascism
THE FAR RIGHT
MOVIE: THE FOUNTAINHEAD, as in Ayn Rand (author of Atlas Shrugged)

In this scheme, it feels like our flag will always be at half mast…

NEXT

SCREENING SUGGESTION: Zucker Brothers’ TOP SECRET…for the line “Souvenirs,
Novelties, Party Tricks…”

Suggested Music: Robbie Robertson and the BAND…

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
XL) SIMONE de BEAUVOIR
Myths: Of Women in Five Authors

1.Montherlant—An antifeminist that believes he is God’s gift to humanity—an easy
point to protest as in Biblical terms, men and women are equal.
2. Lawrence—An early queer theorist that dispositions men in honor of women,
though over and under masculinizing upon his females request—i.e. Women are
created equal, but men need deflation for this work.
3. Claudel—A firm believer in a non-hostile immanence, which is like a reset
button that clears the air of noisy bits of anti-feminist—in turn practicalizing
religion through implication.
4. Breton—Decontaminates the function of the mother-whore dispensation by
returning the equation the equation to a simple mother-daughter relationship to
a simple mother-daughter relationship, without an echoing a superstructure of
standardization
5. Stendhal—A reanimation of the feminine mystique, on his own terms—without
question (believed he could go in and out of paintings unscathed.’

“Life Springs Eternal…”
SCREENING ADVISE: To take the mind off of the ‘shit-storm’ we’re all in, I
highly recommend ED WOOD

XLI) Northrop Frye
The Archetypes of Literature

I-To deliver an old stereotype into an archetype there are a few tactics imposed
by an organized mindset—
a) Compatibility—defined by honoring a respective subject
b) Internal conflict—dealing with a set of thresholds before they overcome you
c) External conflict—rewarding positive behavior and ignoring negativity

II-To deliver from idiosyncratic complaints of unnecessary ‘muck-raking’ of time
adjustments that linger in three philosophical ways
a)RHETORIC—Itemized solutions to endless issues at stake in texts and orality.
b)PHILOLOGY—Study of word patterns
c)PSYCHOLOGY—anthropology (historical/social precedents) and psychoanalysis
(reconstructively speaking)

III-Reduce, Reuse and Recycle (bound by time and space)
Rhythm—a)use less products for conversation
Lyrics—b) package them carefully for liberation
Music—c) eliminate the need for greed for centrism
“Always look on the bright side of Life.”—Monty Python’s Life of Brian

Sneak peek at magic text (found later within in the Phelan pages)
Tears—resurrection---gain
Laughter+Loss=WAKING THE DEAD

“Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride,”—Bette Davis, ALL ABOUT
EVE
Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers
“Take the Ultimate Trip”—TAGLINE for 2001: A Space Odyssey
“What would ‘Sputnik’ do?”—Anonymous
“If the ‘NAZIS’ disbanded UFA why’d they love their movies? What a fucking hoax
that swarm of morons turned out to be, trying to turn genuine artists into
propagandists…the same goes for all ‘bigotry’. Sometimes it’s a good idea not to
make something about what it isn’t. In fact, hell hath no fury like a critic
scorned”-- A hard won philosophy, also anonymous
THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF-DESTRUCT

Good advice: Take a vacation to Rome, Italy and visit the VATICAN
Screening advice: AN OCCURRENCE AT OWL CREEK

XLII)
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)
ODYSSEUS’ SCAR
“If the kingdom of Israel were established in Israel, the world would just as
well last forever, especially if everyone was invited.”—Aaron Sheley
“Call off God or gods and the world will sustain itself longer, do you
understand?”—Rev. Ned Denver

I. Contrition
--Narrative structure typically begins with a hero (or anti-hero_ rising to a
challenge after accepting a belief
--Typically, the hero must gather time and money and supplies to achieve his
first set of goals.

II. Abstraction
--If you are taking this seriously then you are not living for the moment
enough.
--Purity defies all sin’s against an art form, which implies there are no rules.

III. Restitution
--Whatever damage you create, even in your mind, you find a way to pay back…

XLIII. HANS-GEORG GADAMER
The Elevation of the Historicality of Understanding
Neo-classicism explained:
i) Heidegger’s Disclosure of the Forestructure of Understanding
a. modern classicism—i.e. Film: Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia
ii) The Classical Example
a. Classical classicism—i.e. Film: It’s a Wonderful Life

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I forgive all of my former detractors, as I realize now that I
cannot carry everyone’s burdens all at once…including my old dog Patch, who I
should’ve treated better…same with my puppy, Rusty…And by the way, I’m not
anyone’s God or savior, just a simple person…(myth dispelled)

iii) The Hermeneutic Significance of Temporal Distance
a. Post-classical classicism: i.e. The Last Picture Show
b. Post-modern classicism: i.e. Pulp Fiction
iv) The Principle of Effective—History
a. neo-classical literature: i.e. novel: Crime and Punishment
b. neo-classical film: i.e. A Trip to the Moon, Gosford Park, Gangs of New York
c. neo-classical poetry: Emily Dickinson
d. neo-classical criticism: Film Critic: Rudolf Arnheim
MIDTERM (answer key): (Hell hath no fury, like a ‘Sheley’ scorned…)
BRING ME THE ALFREDO GARCIA:
1. We know this from the learning of Spanish.
2. The process Sam Peckinpah develops the film
3. Editing design Eisensteinian, but for a right-wing agenda
4. Thus, the movement of understanding is constant from the whole to the first
act and then changes to a revenge movie during the second—The structural
metaphors in use are gun battles or “blood ballets” are episodically
stylistic—Like the unusual editing in WITHIN OUR GATES by legend Oscar Micheaux.

It’s a Wonderful Life
1. Populist Progressive Ideology
George Bailey learns resistance to a system where charity, temperance and
tolerance are the key to the author Frank Capra’s intent
2. Genre—Social Problem/Screwball/Comedy/Fantasy
Hybrid Film. To differentiate this hermeneutic linguist societal imprint in
objective/subjective aspects through Romance to Idealism to an unlikely ending
in a total row of metaphysics. Rhetoric: It’s like asking…”why is the Liberty
Bell Cracked?”

The Last Picture Show—Instant Textual Interp.
1-Directed by Peter Bogdanovich
2-Featuring an ensemble (collective casting)
3-Black and White film about the “Last Christian Movie Standing”

PULP FICTION
Review: A total ransacking of all things scatological, in the ‘bad taste’ era of
cinematic discoveries—Pulp delivers the goods and keeps everything Fiction…Dana
Polan of USC and NYU explains its pure Postmodernity in BFI book, He goes back
to the result of our analysis of hermeneutics/linguistic analytic games.
iv. a. neo-classical-Crime and Punishment
1. Tract on reasoning orthodoxically
2. Either Crime and Punishment or Both
3. A sinner’s manifesto
4. A shockwave of redemption
5. An historical phenomenon

c. A Trip to the Moon
Review: A wonderful illusionary/allusion to the ways of formalism. What goes
before the enlightenment is on the basis of the aesthetics of genius. Romantic
expressionist. Never discredited for individuality—a hypnotic dream sequence
(like an airplane blowing up in the sky in modern times etc.)—embellishing the
myth
a—myth positive conditions of a futuristic society temporally distanced
conventions—a radical difference of space in this correlative also inspired
fantasies like PHANTOM CARRIAGE and horrors like AVENGING CONSCIENCE by D.W.
Griffith (origins)
b—iconography-Director Melies takes us to the height of free enlightenment
GOSFORD PARK
a- A circle of understanding of two classic texts Rules of the Game and a Jane
Austen appealingness anticipating completion in form-invisibility style-multiple
layers of socio-political bourgeoisie depth
b- Valuable historical landmark
GANGS OF NEW YORK
Spell-binding, gripping, sets the New Standard for historical in the Godfather
era.

c-Emily Dickinson
1-Brings about hermeneutical consciousness
2-Unbroken stream of tradition
3-Centrist diegetic ideology
4-The transmitted text of objective interest
d. Rudolf Arnheim (From FILM THEORIES AND CRITICISM by Marshall Cohen and Gerald
Mast)
1-Silent Film Critic Prejudiced and Biased to the silent era and not afraid to
let everyone know that “pure” film ended with sound, which, for the being and
time is accurate (save Musicals, for example)
2-Non-historical problematic, unless various audience view the film
3-Language for the sake of language
4-Films using a scientific method.
5-Lachrymose (or slightly slothful)—toward censorship
MIDTERM OVER

Break Time:
“The news of my suicide was extremely exaggerated…”—Aaron Sheley
(Tomorrow…the final cometh…)


XLIV. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)
SUSAN SONTAG—AGAINST INTERPRETATION
The series of standards opposed to cinematic philosophy will never end because
it is dubious. Whoever disowns certain films brings them back in a fly-by-night
operation but deals with kindred spirits to also remain aloof. Suspend your
disbelief and Sontag will disown you. She is a realist. Realism is a practical
way to be a cinematic historian, market soothsayer, or philosopher of certain
camps of undervalued and underprivileged. Her first task as philosopher-queen
would be to film more impactful movies about things that have not happened, will
not happen and will never happen again. Liars in the Non-Bazinian school never
prosper until the day when criticism merge with a ‘Truffautian/Godardian’
dialectic for personages and the epigram for feminism the pick of the litter is
‘Alice Guy,’ ‘Agnes Varda,’ and ‘Catherine Breillat.’
Furthermore, the longer a secret is kept about an upcoming project the easier it
is to sell tickets—but how do you win over a critic—
a. Submission to their powers
b. Subjectivitation of consequentialism
c. Possessing many properties
d. Including everyone in a ‘round-table’ grand dichotomy.
e. Analyzing every shot of the world’s ‘Great Films


That said…

FINALS WEEK
(Answer Key)
A TRIP TO THE MOON
Predecessor to Birth of a Nation
1. In No Way Relates to It
2. Is not anti-foreign
3. Formalist Alone (not a hybrid in a classical sense)
4. Among the First Modernist Short Films
UN CHIEN ANDALOU
A vision quest into sensitive areas, broken taboos and unleashed demons—it is so
hallucinatory that it will bring back your sense of interpretive reason. Yet
again it is Anti-Birth of a Nation, in the very respect that it derives from
another nation. Dali + Bunuel went down in history in a blaze of hysterical,
subversive philosophies. Eyes get cut in half, ants march out of hands, dead
horses get dragged around, nuns carry boxes on bicycles—all kinds of strange
stop motion—It is like an invitation to a Svankmajerian Mad Hatter Tea Party
ALICE sequence—only further. (NOTHING IS SACRED). It is the ultimate in
surrealism and contains only nightmares without exits, furthermore, is
tangential to a non-cineaste.

“Ever since I was a kid, I always wanted to be a ‘critic,’ which is why I submit
my powers to my friends, ‘outta respect…’”

Hiroshima Mon Amour and Last Year at Marienbad

Fairly Opposites of

GOLD RUSH- a wild romp through nature’s finest ‘Tramp’ stand-offs with
gun-toting barrels just the gag reel of mountain men’s fortuneless to save the
poor from monolithic impracticalities. Furthermore, no other comedy will outlast
you and out craze you to indulge. (Rumor has it that Chaplin smoked many hash
pipes on and off the set, but it is forbidden knowledge.)

JULES and JIM – A spotless, flawless and covered up for too long mix of genres
(all comedy and all drama) a ‘dramedy of fairers’ that spends all it time
entertaining and showing the dark side of Baudelaire’s stand offish attitude
toward ladies (Jeanne Moreau) rebels against the antifeminist lie by spiriting
away, which expect to stay out of bedlam by inventing it—music interludes have
never had better timing than in Truffaut’s towering achievement.

SINGIN in the RAIN – Exhilarating, fun and restless (“All I Do the Whole Night
Through is Dream of You,” or “Good Morning,” performed in part by Debbie
Reynolds.) Title song makes it all go away, “Singin’ in the Rain,” excavated
from a prior resource in the early musical library of MGM as all the “b” musical
songs became “a” lists when Gene Kelly brought on the rain number.) A sensation.

The final number is a show-stopper that brings up a curtain on false pretenses
of production value and You’ll never forget the pastiche that is the Broadway
Melody. The key to an animated victory is Donald O’ Connors “Make ‘em Laugh,”
you will bounce off the walls when Donnie flies through one. The transition from
the silent era to sound made easy by the Hollywood Musical forever.
--
The peacefulness of the watchful eye will encounter a hypnotic peaceful
tranquility of self-actualizations). Unlike the Fifth Generation of China which
has only heterosexual visions of cinema (see also RAISE THE RED LANTERN and/or
the G.W. Pabst film (not to be confused with my old buddy G.W. Bush, who I used
to hang out with) German Expressionist Pandora’s Box--)
Anyway, this relates to less caustic theology of stigmas where the light and
life always come out of the darkness—but remember in a spiritual mode…no
ideologies except religious ones…for an anti-humanist/pro-humanist stasis and
retrospective phenomenology. (Devoid of epistemology) or maybe it just
meaningless postmodernity. “Have a ‘Mysterious Journey’ along the way.
--
8 ½: A deserted sci-fi project that experiences so much chaos folly ‘musical
reviews’ that no one can rescue Fellini’s spaceships, in particular it soothes,
womanizes and insures a slightly healthier any goal… Whereas, Fellini bottoms
out on so many levels with his 8 ½…
Extra credit for anyone that names at least three of the films that appeared
before 8 ½ (i.e. Variety Lights, La Strada or La Dolce Vita etc. etc.)
--
WIZARD OF OZ
In the MGM tradition comes Victor Fleming’s Frank Baum tale, patching together
good versus evil in a wicked plot to unhatch color films to the masses. Do not
return to ‘black and white’ until you wake up. Forget your cares to “Somewhere
Over the Rainbow,” sung by Judy Garland. Once in Oz the Lollipop kids will Guild
you until you “Follow the Yellow Brick Road,” as instructed unto Dorothy by
Glenda, who gives her the only way home to meet friends and find a Wizard in a
maze of franchising deliberation, providing intelligence for a scarecrow of
theology, providing a timed-heart for a scientific “Tin-Man” holistic robot, and
giving structural courage to a “cowardly-Lion” of apolitical/political agendas.
Remember, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!”

Final Part Two

NEVER-ENDING STORY
What do you expect? The title alone defends the theory that the story never
ends. Bookshops, dragons, poetic music and “Nothing,” is defeated by a dreamers
belief in the magic of dreaming. There is nothing related to ‘suspense’ but
rather a ‘surprise’ in Wolfgang Peterson’s mirage. In fact, Rock-people,
wheeling gelflings and the real world perspective) to his romance with a
princess in a castle and it is reported that the film made gang-busters (with 40
percent overhead of production, 30 percent distribution and 30 percent
exhibition…an ideal approach to cinema…the film returned a profit) at the
deproblematized, even in its Manichean (or off the metaphors, fly with a luck
dragon, dodge blazing statues and pass through this dream-land of recycled fairy
tales.
---
Aaron,

thanks for sending me your work. I got it from Heidi last night. It looks great!
a Gesamtkunstwerk in the vein of Zukovski's long poem ''A'', Pound Cantos or
Olson Maximus Poems..Will read it as soon as I get my printer to work..
More later.

Hope everything is well with you. Where are you now?

Best,

Javier
(“The” Director and Co-Author of “OEDIPUS MARSHAL”

Simple answer: I am now in Denver, Colorado…and let’s put it this way, ‘wherever
you go, there you are.’ (For the spectacle that this answer may create, I do
apologize)…


VAMPIRE HUNTER D
(anime)
The Vampire Hunter is half ‘Geurande’ (of Les Vampires protagonism) and half
Nosferatu (Murnau), he defeats floating eyes, wicked serpent shape-shifters,
learns from his talking hand (Hands of Orlac style, directorly style) In a
sci-fi, fantasy, horror (levitation, castle storm, werewolves). In a grid of
animative reproduction it breaks no rules.
--
ALLURES
Nothing doing with the antispiritual non-metaphysical realism of class
sociologies of LES VAMPIRES. In every way it is only a cool down technique
recommended for egotistical maniacs to watch in a haze of religious banners that
when worked together by spiritualists, mediums and transcendence will create a
fade out of tired special effects to a land Beyond the 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY
laser light show, “Used heavily in Arthur C. Clarke” and Stanley Kubrick’s
Beguiling Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite (?) Sequence…


PAUSE for a STUDY BREAK

My moment of “Buddhist” yugen (From Joseph McBride’s HAWKS on HAWKS):
“I (Howard Hawks) asked him (Raymond Chandler) to explain who killed so-and-so.
He wired back and said it was George somebody. I said it couldn’t be George; He
wired back and said, “Then I don’t know either.” Actually, we didn’t care. It
was the first time I made a picture and just decided I wasn’t going to explain
things. I was just going to try and make good scenes.”

TOP FIVE FAVORITE ALBUMS
1-BEATLES: Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
2-Miles Davis: Bitches Brew
3…PARSIFAL by Richard Wagner (Von Karajan)
4-LEAD BELLY’S Greatest Hits
5-VELVET UNDERGROUND’S (self-titled, Andy Warhol Produced)


ORACLE OF DELPHI (unhinged)
Lesbians naked writhing in a giant bowl of venomous chemicals produced by snakes
that they played with. They say that like a crystal-ball (wizard proper or
soothsayer), these virgin lesbians could tell the future by having sex with each
other on drugs etc.

A high school PSYCHOLOGY teacher Mr. Squibb once told me after taking the
controls of CESSNA airplane, “You flew, all right.”

Herb Farmer, keeper of the FORBIDDEN ARCHIVE in the basement of the Norris at
USC, explains that all films are important for some odd reason…

FINAL (continued) PART TWO
METROPOLIS “Art is thinking in images”
In terms of German Expressionism not even a dream of a Moloch pit to devour
worker drones can topple the TOWER OF BABEL myth in the networked device of evil
conspiracies unhatched by a research team that creates a semi-Satanic robot to
defeat the utopia. When the pleasure garden reserves itself to trade in front of
a defeated giant of business pressure, the real woman, is, in the end, not a
robot, but ‘flesh and blood.’
GULLIVER’S TRAVELS (animated, 1938)
When a giant from our world travels to a small continent full of little people,
a war incited by lost romance, the giant thwarts the war by breaking free of the
workers bonds and flings a battalion of ships back to sea—in theoretical terms
death brings pain but life springs eternal. Philosophically this is compatible
with everything. Truly this is the only all-time great first animated feature.
Jonathan Swift turned childish for all ages by the Fleischer’s factory of
fanfare of fun. Do not defeat the Giant or the Giant will defeat you. An utopic
fantasy ‘toon with awesome sing-a-long songs for the whole family business.

BLADE RUNNER
“Poetic imagery is a means of creating the strongest possible impression.”
Ridley Scott’s most isolated effort of modern science miracles. The Director’s
Cut (excising narration, altered “high-rise” ending.) In effect, the cult of
Blade Runner has dominated Los Angeles ethos for at least 20 years.

GODARD—(THE NEW WAVE DAYS)
Examples:
Les Carabiniers
Breathless
Alphaville
2 or 3 Things I Know About Her…
Contempt
La Chinoise (final film)
My Life to Live
ROGOPAG
7 Deadly Sins
A Woman is a Woman
Petit Soldadt (sic?)

and

Pierrot le fou
An entertaining diversionary to avoid all revolutions—A case in mistaken
martyrdom from a tennis match—through a sex appeal (Belmondo and Karina) to a
beautiful apocalypse wave-lengthiness, breathtaking and a total inhalation of
fresh air. Approaching strange car rides of lust, long lost philosophies of
Robinson Crusoe, pulls a total critical mess of infractory Brecht/Threepenny
Opera approaches the end result of the “end Vietnam project…”

(Note: Wouldn’t it be nice if Characters only came alive in their films…more on
this treatise later…)

RASHOMON
There are seven or four sides to every story if you look at it from certain
perspectives—episodically (QUEEN) to autonomous (KING)—
The bookends—(parallel syntagms) are of a humanist approach—
The interior long walk shots of the woodcutter are (oppositional—bracket
syntagms) woodcutter are (oppositional bracket syntagms like KNIGHTS in chess)
diagonalizing episodes
The four interior supposed lies are the infrastructure…(SCENES or PAWNS)
1. Swordsman samurai bandit stoicizes the Ronin legend by raping a bride of a
nobleman
2. The two men duel over the epicurean woman and the winner takes all.
3. A demon-possessed necromancer tells of how the woman brought the Pythagorean
battle about erotically savage-like
4. Cynically nobody wins and everybody loses--
BOOK ENDS: Rain at the Rashomon Gate (The humanist touch of Kurosawa)

LORD OF WAR
A razzle-dazzle slow train wreck of aesthetic right-wing box office deliverance.
So out of control that you will feel the pain of every gunshot—Like GUN CRAZY it
is forever ambiguous swinging to the left-wing during the prostitution sequences
but ultimately sends out a message that when Africa is at war, maybe they need
guns—However, Nicolas Cage gets his freak on with an arsenal of weapons and that
alone is worth my ticket price.
--
SHOOTER
A delusional mishmash of priceless architecture gone down the tubes of
gun-battle hypocrisy—no morals, no decisions and a scatterbrained
attitude—however, has a Hunchback or Mr. Hyde element of adventurous pacing that
who cares what it is about.

PSYCHO
1. Auteur: Alfred Hitchcock—Genre:Suspense Thriller
2. Horror hybrid—the mother of modern horror
3. Episodic syntagms stream through the consciousness of a memory that will
never fade.
4. Made either to bluff serial-killers, or will it create them?
5. Bernard Herrmann’s score, Joseph Stefano’s script and Saul Bass’ titles
scrape, strip and slide to take the film down to its bare bones.

BLOOD OF A POET
Make hypnosis not psychosis in the Cocteau camp. Nothing like a little confusion
to create French reasons to agree to disagree. It is part nightmare, part wish
fulfillment, part logic and all hallucination. The fantasyland of it all will
sweep you away into the ‘hard won’ short-film issues, by riding the line. After
seeing it, Cocteau will never leave you or forsake you.


GRADING SCALE
F-For INFORMAL
D-For DECEPTIVE
C-For Cross-Fire of beliefs and ideals
B-for Buenos (Spanish for Good)
A-Accumulative Knowledge

(Quick confession: As a professor assistant, I was never good at keeping
attendance…)

NOW THE SURVEY
1 2 3 4 5
1= Best 2=Better 3=Average 4=Fair and 5= Poor
1. How well is the class defined?
2. Is the message clear?
3. How well do you like your Teacher?
4. Etc.

At this point, I’d circle three for “average”

Just a thought: If you have secret lovers, wait until the right moment to
‘hook-up’ with them…Or, if you fly too high, (In the words of the late Stanley
Kubrick), spend more time working on the ‘wings’…(Another of my Randomly
Accessible Memories, while strolling down Santa Clause Lane…This too is
Random…)…or as my ‘friends and lovers’ have made somewhat clear: We love him,
but all we see is ‘pain.’ Also, a shout out to the ‘lady-friends’ that I used to
think were phony…I think I took the ‘Holden Caulfield’ complex a bit too far…and
remember the sting of ‘divorce’ never goes away…or does it? In other words, like
the U2 song, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…” I’m basically coming
closer to what I’m looking for, there I said it, and I don’t regret it…Of
course, I have no one to blame but myself…thank you to Amanda Armato and Jordan
Wood for sharing their ways with me…it goes without saying that there is also a
place in my heart for the lovely Vanessa Gates, who is and always will be
respected and treated like a ‘queen’ and a special shout out to ‘ol Lorenzo
Manetti for setting me on the path of a ‘calmer’ war film..which, for now, I’d
like to call THE LOST MISSION

CONTINUE…

“And remember, if you cannot make the ‘Indian’ laugh…start again…”

John August was right, every day is like finals week around here. I owe this to
JASON SQUIRE’S candid classroom (author of THE MOVIE BUSINESS BOOK)
ORIGINAL HONORS CINEMA TREATISE on FILM
My philosophy is epicurean and heterogeneous. It incorporates multiple theories
style and film going experiences, I’ll start by briefly stating that cinema
literacy may be at in a dire crisis. I grew up seeing mostly what I thought were
somewhat rotten movies in the 80’s (let’s just say that that was then, and that
was then—now I’ve gone back to see many of the John Hughes films that I used to
think were pointless, and discovered that there really aren’t anything but
‘Great Films,’ even though I used to harbor slight resentment toward
over-sentimentality—Alas, many were unavailable in Colorado…Then again, I’ll
never forget how much fun I had watching ‘Home Alone’ or one of my all time
faves, ‘Firestarter’ etc. but my uncle, Robert Sheley, forced me into (in a good
way) a Clockwork Orangian ‘Ludovico style’ History of the Horror Film, the
Kung-Fu Movie—Ever since I’ve had a fascination towards genre driven
spectacles—(Don’t even trip…because there must always be some kind of a Grand
Inquisitor, or at least, as a test of faith…), peculiar to America, but also
like in international art movements. Mainly I’ve grown to love ‘auteurs,’ again
American and intentional—especially those who put everything on the line like
Fritz Lang and F.W. Murnau, I love directors (even the hated on ones) who gamble
on everything and exploit their vast resources to go against the status
quo—Directors like Abel Gance and Erich von Stroheim who believe in the art
forum’s form of cinema and take it to the limits. I also value those filmmakers
who make films for nothing. The limits create the art. I don’t look at old great
movies as though they ‘caged’ an essence, they were in a marginalized museum.
They are still alive (living and breathing things) and they ‘all’ play a great
role in my life. I mean, I have to have my Howard Hawks as much as I have to
have Robert Bresson. But just because I love films that recklessly explore and
remain true to their artistic convictions whether they are political, they are
political the central quest in movie-making has not been lost, movies can still
be more relevant and more powerful than ever as they are connected to vast
networks of competing media. I didn’t begin to think of cinema’s
‘responsibility’ on its audience until recently and I still am very vague on
notions of audience receptions (or forgiveness to reach condonation) ‘another
no-brainer’ (cut the guilt trips, or die tryin', in other words)—But I believe in
film and filmmakers—I believe artists are still movers and shakers in society
and I believe the ‘waning’ love (as I used to experience, for no logical reason)
around the world for movies, will rise again in a new exciting manifestation
(for instance, I was recently pleased by ANGELS and DEMONS by Ronny Howard). I
believe that my continuing search for meaning in the art of film will lead me
into some aspect in the art film will lead me into some aspect of cinema in the
future academia (l’etters, d’arts, sciencias), filmmaking—it’s not important, as
long as I do my part to rekindle the once burning flame of the art of the motion
picture. (As Francis Ford Coppola has done for all of us, in his APOCALYPSE NOW:
REDUX 2001 or Wong Kar Wai’s ASHES OF TIME).
Again I apologize for my once ‘terse’ and ‘glib’ approach to what I am now
gaining a softer edge form, as I switch genres, very carefully etc. etc.


Again, here’s three groovy rules to live by to get by in H-town (Hollywood).
1. All We Have to Fear is Hollywood Herself
2. 0=0 times e/mc (squared) = 1 times 0=0 (No ‘nukes’ is good ‘nukes’
3. Everything else is a free ‘academic’ dispensary

AUTHOR’S NOTE (to lighten up to):
(If in Paris, France, you should take the trouble to visit the Sorbonne Library,
remember, in a Byzantinian structure, some documents were meant to pend
forever—In other words ‘DON’T’ check out books on ‘Waterloo’ because between you
and I, they are long and boring, and in my view, there is no ‘Waterloo’…)

Other Films I have made that ‘will be’ available upon request (some time ‘down
the road’)
---PRISMATIC SPECTRUM (around 30+ hours of raw musical stock)
---SHADOW OF DEATH (to be played on ‘arena’ mode only for the ‘sound check’ or
to be watched in a drunken stupor…)
---RUT (a lengthy ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ art house flick)
---DEAD BABY: THE MOTION PICTURE ( a ‘lame-duck’ exploitation flick…not for all
audiences…)
(sooner or later, more will be revealed on these ‘Hot Topics’)
You know, switching ‘genres’ really is the world’s ‘Most Dangerous Game…’…It’s a
‘JEDI-QUARTER-MASTER’ thing…or my ‘BRITISH-IRISH-GERMAN’ side…’And remember,
whatever hurts the body of film studies, hurts everyone…(Trust me, after Guest
Lecturing in front of Janelle Pope’s MEDIA class at Mesa State University (what
with a Mr. Stack-ian impetus, I realize that ARISTOTLE flies way easier than the
late and great ‘MARX’ and ‘FREUD’..

XLV. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)
VICTORY SHLOVSKY
I. Art as Technique
Essay response: In congruence to a word creates artist theory, Tolstoy never
dissipates from his Rigid Ways but other communist word propagationists
disillusion grandiosity for the sake of lyricism. Poetics are aroused from
deeper meanings than any one set of standard “over-arches” a singular franchise.
However, the author theory has strength in numbers so it applies with rapid fire
and lucidity. However, the author theory has strength in numbers so it applies
with rapid fire and lucidity ‘a been there, done that approach, which never
fails’. However, nothing over implicates word ratification over simple minds
than a totalistic heterogeneity. If capital texts crumble, then so do all
linguistic codes; If linguistic codes crumble words become caustic and no one
wants disenfranchisement so they always stick with their favorite words (In my
case, for eternity, I like this phrase, “STAY OUT OF THE WAR ROOM, LEBOWSKI” a
play on words from mixed sources.) in freer societies until someone gets hurt,
then words change. Socio-linguistic battles are never won this way. (“Scientists
have already proven that thoughts are evolving away from deadly constructs,” or
“I believe in nothing, therefore I am guilty of nothing,” or “I never used your
name in front of the detective, I swear” lines from SHADOW OF DEATH.

Some polar oppositionals weren’t meant to mix (although my semi-cousin ‘Ryan
Ricks’ has gone through hell in jail, and I pray for him constantly, even if he
is a cold-hearted killer (to an extent, but he is the father of my nephew
Caleb…)
A dogma ending Dr. Seuss joke to avoid “isms”: I WOULD NOT COULD NOT IN A BOX…


Meanwhile, Here is the everyman guide to the progress report of micro-economics
(or how to balance a check-book)
(rank and money matter)
Checks--$3.14|$120.64|$482.56
Dividends--$241.28|$6.28|$60.32|$30.16
Balances--$12.54|$15.08
(The pattern here is quite simple, keep the numbers aligned like a ‘perfect
circle’)

VIEW LOG: BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ episode “IN THE DEPTHS OF SILENCE” (Fassbinder,
1980)

The downside of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
DEATH—FAMINE---PLAGUE—WAR
Helpful Threshold Guardians to pull through these ‘Power of Myth’ maneuvering
style…
BEGUILOR vs. DEATH
DESTRACTOR vs. FAMINE
SUPPRESSOR vs. PLAGUE
CONFUSOR vs. WAR
(some thresholds were just built to last)
(of course, it is a good idea to stay out of the affairs of others…due to the
dangerous world we live in, I really do not want to know what goes on
‘behind-the-scenes’ at all.)

Here’s another quick dramedy of life to take into account for the heck of it:
An Annulment Contract (trial run…with intent to payback in a ‘whittle’ down
economic return of the ‘favors granted’ especially for those I’ve ‘stolen’
from…of course, sometimes you gotta steal to eat...JOKE REMINDER)

Here goes: TO ANUL (with regards to sticking to an intent to payback the
ex-husband or ex-wife in whatever legal arrangements were made in the divorce
agreement etc.)
A wise man once stated that if you love someone, you should set them free—Out of
fear for any further ‘codependency’ I believe that MR.----- and MS.----- should
no longer be considered divorced or separated to avoid further ‘engagement’ that
way they can be free to pursue other interests and other interested
parties---Good Books describe the ‘lust’ in a man’s mind is almost as bad as
‘lust’ itself. Perhaps this ‘thought-crime’ will disappear upon a clean
break—Because of difficult circumstances that range emotions in a ticking time
bomb of biological clocks, which should be heretofore noted that if the marital
contract be broken, than there was not a ‘cleaving’ of sensibility, so to call
it even and go for a clean break and fresh start:
MR.-------- signature and MRS.--------- signature
If agreed on, and that alone….DULY NOTED…Requires a Notary Public
Author’s Note: Believe me, gang, I am still “really” new at this…so I’m working
on an unwavering abstraction of ‘anti-guilt.’ It is yet another, AGE-OLD DEBATE…


XLVI-STRUCTURALIST-FORMALIST
I-PROBLEMS of GENESIS of LITERARY PHENOMENA
a. ‘reject theories of naïve evaluation’
b. ‘analysis of separate elements of a work, such as composition, style, rhythm
and syntax in prose and the rhythm and semantics in poetry, provides sufficient
evidence that these elements, within certain limits, can be abstracted as a
working hypothesis, although they are interrelated and interacting.
c. Some things never grow kitsch (like a romantic comedy I want to work on,
titled SHIP OF FOOLS, as I have lost my most gorgeous leading lady to date
Janelle Pope, it might be interesting to steer to another route) some things go
in and out of style, humanists are in it for everybody only animals love
stereotypes but wouldn’t we rather be archetypes? Not in a structural way
because we are what we are and nobody ever changes—unless we rewrite stories to
make them change
d. Is revisionist history allowed? Well, documents change over the years and we
need to get used to it because there’s always room.
e. Decoupage—a systematic cross between signifiers and non-signifiers, which are
sign. Camp and cult is sometimes good, sometimes bad, but it all breaks even in
a communist system that will end all beliefs to only believe in one.

TOP FIVE PREFERENTIAL ANIMATED SHORT FILMS
1. Allures (Jordan Belson)
2. La Merle (Norman McLaren)
3. Optical Poem (Oskar F.)
4. Particles in Space (Len Lye)
5. Phantasmagorie (Emil Cohl—see above article)

What if “god” created a world where even he can be surprised—
Prayer like the St. Mary Rosary “HAIL MARY” makes differences in quite a few
lives…in other words, although my mind was under generational assaults of Book
Lag Dementia, sometimes even words cannot make up for these differences…but it
is worth a damned shot. (I’m sorry for all the ‘pain’ I have caused everyone, as
I’m sure that I don’t even know the ‘half of it’—Like a LOCKET.
f. Once you are in a time loop of word games, it is easier to stay with the
order of events.
g. Capitalists often oppose the communists to organize a bank system.

Travel Tip: If in Cairo, Egypt remember this gag:
“You can crawl, you can walk, and you can hobble—but don’t miss the Sphinx.”

‘Just Words’
N=National priorities
E=Entertainment and thoughtfulness
W=Weather (meteorology, like by my old pal Chris Tomer etc.)
S=Sports




(Go on to next page for further hijinx)


Here now is a RESUME example (for all of those in career transitions):
Aaron Sheley
Address and Tele (in transition) DENVER, CO
aaron_sheley@yahoo.com


WORK:

Plato’s Cave Productions. Position: Cinematic Writer/Director and Novel
Publisher. Film: Shadow of Death. Novel: Paradise Faust. Self-Established Art
Company, 2008. (New Film: Prismatic Spectrum in the Works). Self-Employed.

Entertainment Today. Los Angeles Based Magazine. Position: Art Film Critic.
2006-2007. Employer: Mathew Klickstein.

Aspen Art Museum/Oasis Clubhouse. Cinematic Writer/Lead Actor. Film:
Oedipus Marshal. 2006. (Film is Currently Screening World-Wide). Employer:
Javier Tellez.


EDUCATION:

California Institute of the Arts. Student of the MFA Critical Studies Writing
Program. Post-college Experience. 2002. Mentor: Jon Wagner.

University of Southern California. Graduated with Bachelor’s From School of
Cinema-Television (School of Cinematic Arts). 1998-2002. Reference: Richard
Jewell, Co-Dean of School.


LEISURE:

Reading Philosophy, Religious Texts and Classic Literature.
Travel
Music
Television
Cinema
Psychology

(recommended reading, I LOST IT AT THE MOVIES by Pauline Kael—a film
reviewer—‘which basically sums up my jagged edged background check.)


XLVII—TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)
WILLIAM EPSON
Epilogue to Seven Types Ambiguity
Structuralists reconstruct
Deconstructuralists deconstruct
And they come to terms with each other
They get away with it.

Take again for instance Fassbinder’s BERLIN-ALEXANDERPLATZ, which is used to
dissect this analogy
1. Director Fassbinder-
A pot-smoking, gay German director that made the world’s longest exhibition
marvel of a film (15+ hrs.)
2. Poetic Homage’s are all around us.
3. Parallel Gangster/Romance/Epic Period Piece of Weimar Era Germany
4. Endless variations of montage
5. Perfectly Timed Acting Exterior and Interior Set Designs

Poetry
In the darkness of my heart
Leave a drink of thirstful crimson
Flight is evolution’s start
Guild thine might on crimson


Interestingly, I believe communists are no longer into war for profit or any
other reason. Eastern cultures value peace-making—even statements that do not
conform to any code of “isms” will eventually be free from this Dogmatic
situation. (The visualizer explains the whole thing off by asking what good it
will do?!)

Going after this critic is like a Quixotic Windmill Chaser on a Cloud (see also
Gorillaz-Feel Good INC. music video recommended.)

“social comparisons or derivation” are key formulas to owning some kind of
metaphysical train-set.
Empson you are an infinite hall of mirrors, “for the satisfaction of the mind”
Intensify dispassionately
Fallacies exist in almost everything
Self-contradiction is a constant—
In communism identification is valueless, except typically everyone gets paid
for being human.

Antinomies—(anti-symbols)

Proustian intimacies create a passion for the world’s most prolific author—it is
“the nature of the organism” of writing…”or you are carrying too much”…

The only thing I must agree to disagree with is when Empson claims “the cult of
irrationalism is such a bore” does not make sense because that is a Chinese Box
Structure I will always partake of. Like the statement “Rainbows always go above
Golden Cities” is considered partially irrational. Logic games are a race
against time. (No negative sensibilities intended.) Rediscover knowledge by
abandoning thoughts and feeling. One drawback to left wing philosophy is that
Right Wing politics are often conducive to better business practices and
money-making. So let’s all just have a ‘long talk’ about ‘nothing.’



Joke Break: “I think I need a wet-nurse to absolve my pain…”

Film Idea: ORGY OF THE DAMNED
It is like Song of Songs meets Ecclesiastes

Actual Note from Blonde Bombshell Nicole Traynor (in my TV days): (paraphrased):
You are a sexy animal…etc.

Quick RECAP:
Philosopher kings, queens, princes, and princesses (not to mention jesters)
(Audience be thine own critique)
Herein is the “un-church” of Ecclesiastes Defined
By “Aaron Sheley” the ‘hypothetical bullet-blocker’
Pre-classic-Lumiere and Melies
BOOK of: I SAMUEL
CLASSICAL
Anaxagoras, Solomon, Pythagoras, Diogenes, Plato, Plotinus, Aristotle, Dr.
Willard, Sophocles, D.W. Griffith, John Ford

POST CLASSICAL
Bollywood, St. Augustine, St. Aquinas, William Wyler, Frank Capra, Jean Renoir,
Dante Alighieri
MODERN
Oscar Micheaux, Immanuel Kant, and Hegel, Orson Welles, Stanley Kubrick, Alfred
Hitchcock, Robert Bresson, Akira Kurosawa, Fritz Lang, F.W. Murnau, Francis Ford
Coppola, Charles Darwin, Sigmund Freud, Karl Marx, BOOK OF JOB, Kierkegaard,
Schopenhauer, Jesu Christe, Jon Wagner, Edwin McCann, Ross Scimeca, Nietzsche,
Jean-Paul Sartre, John Stuart Mill, J. Bentham, John Locke, and David Hume,
Descartes, Spinoza and Leibniz
POSTMODERN
George Lucas, Husserl, Foucault, Derrida, Duchamp, Steven Spielberg, Todd Boyd,
Ayn Rand, John Hospers
NEOCLASSICAL
Ron Howard
NEOMODERN
Wittgenstein and B. Russell
FIRST ECCLESIASTICAL CHURCH (hopefully not to be formed for another few
millennia…or whenever)
Slogan: “All Invited: Food, Wine and Cinema Bible Study Included”

Like the days of my first “all-male” collegiate apartment with Aaron Pearce, Ted
Zacher and Gabriel Gonzales (a rumpus room, to say the least)…

Moving on…

Herein is an excerpt of my ten year collaborator and close friend Matt K.’s
newly published novel DAISY GOES TO THE MOON

Chapter 13. “THE TV MAN”

‘At the surprise of all our characters involved in this fiendishly rousing tale
there was a great surge of a energy and all the glowing blinking lights went out
and on again. All the beekers and such burst loudly and both Daisys gasped at
the same time in the same way as though in echo. They clung tightly to Mr Z who
was a bit embarrass but containing it well.
And then there before them there was a man who was rather sickly and with a
craggy face and was 42.
Who are you asked Mr Z nervesly.
I am just returned from the future said the man who I should mention had wild
gray hair and a bit of a beard but not really and wore strange orange shirt and
blue tough pants and white boots that were so big and quear. He produced a card
from out of his pocket which when read said: B. Blahdel, Esq. Hadenfield Lane
New York.
Time travel cant exist exept in stories uttered Daisy O who pulled away from Mr
Z.
That’s correct Daisy said stepping toward the queer B. If time travel did exist
someone would have already come back from the future to tell us about it
Ah its mere temporal transference replied B.
And in case you were wondering his full name was Beedul but we will call him B
as that is what it states on his card with golden frilling around it.
Temporal transference that sounds rather peculiar said Daisy.
I am come to bring you this and he showed them a black box with silver antanna
sticking out of the top with silver balls at their tips and a glass screen
filled with flicker flutter snow that would never stop and really bewitched the
two Daisy girls. It is called a Tv he said and the girls could not take their
eyes off of its glowing radiance and strange way
Mr Z was feeling a bit jellus and smarmy at the fact that he had just lost his
attention to this fellow Especially after I remoleculrized Daisy he thought to
himself. He was about to cry himself but then B went like this and mentioned
that he was seeking someone to go with him to find the missing part of his TV
that he brought everywhere with him through time in order to show everybody
everything but couldn’t without the missing piece.
Well I’ll go with you stepped up Daisy O and she did and Mr Z was glad for now
he can be alone with Daisy the First again and show her so much good other
things on and in the moon.
For now let us leave them through and see what it is that Daisy O and B have
gone off to.

END QUOTE

(Author’s Note: In my opinion Matt K. has done it again, like ‘Joyce’ meets
‘Carroll’ in the trippiest Sci-Fi tale to come along in awhile…a must read for
fans of adult children’s books)

SCREENPLAY WORKSHOP

NOW for an excerpt of a ‘fine’ script of my own
CARNIES
-------------------------
EXT. OLD ROAD - NIGHT
There is a hazy glow from the setting sun. The wind is gently blowing dust over
a small gravel road. In the distance, a beat up white Ford truck bumps and
shakes, winding onto the road. Crackling of gravel increases while the beat up
vehicle rumbles by, then screeches to a halt, dust surging through the air. A
door slams on the pickup and a dark beard, long hair in a ponytail figure of a
25 year young man hurdles out of the back of the truck, wearing a tie dye shirt,
beads, and sunglasses. Following him is a striking muscle bound man with long
sideburns. The passengers are clearly hitchhikers. The driver waves and cruises
off. The two riders walk away and a rickety sign nearby reads “Welcome to
Pittsburgh”. Subtitle: 1979. The dying embers of the sunset gives way to a
neon-infested city.
CUT TO
EXT. OUTSIDE PITTSBURGH - NIGHT
As the two men walk along the road, blaring lights, smog and traffic erupt in
all directions, unintelligible rock music (with a Frank Zappa quality)
intermixes with roaring engines, black smoke and whirling pig iron. The
travelers stagger from over-tiredness. Piss drunk, they slam their last beer
cans and toss them to the side. Smoky billboards scatter through a hybrid of
industry and low rent commerce. The ponytail wearer is DWAYNE. He lights a
marijuana joint as a filthy bus passes by. Muscle-bound’s name is JIM, who
notices a small line-up of various shapes and sizes of cheap prostitutes.
JIM
When do we have to be back at Frankie’s second unit?
DWAYNE
Get a hold of yourself man. We have the night off--we can drink as much beer as
we want. But you know Jim, I figure maybe later we can hitch all the way back to
the midway, we can help close up the Underworld.
CUT TO
EXT. CARNIVAL MAIN ENTRANCE - NIGHT
A large woman in a rig drops off the hitchhikers in front of a half-lit gate
with faded lights that flickers the Carnival name “The Underworld.” Beyond the
gate is a small carnival, a typical amusement park in a fairgrounds. Screams and
rides collide in the night sounds. Fanfare music plays from a rusty, automated
calliope. Large rigs and trailers carrying equipment promenade beyond the
travelers.
CUT TO
EXT. MIDWAY
The midway--or main drag--of the carnival is a narrow hallway with multi-colored
booths on either side, chock full of games, swag and stuffed-animals. The center
booth labeled “Saturday Night Special” attracts a number of patrons--or
“Townees” or “Marks” in carnival slang.
CUT TO
EXT. “SATURDAY NIGHT SPECIAL” BOOTH
Lights blur the microphone center of the booth. A sweaty face, Barker bumps into
the microphone and feedback silences the gathering townees.
BARKER
Come on, come on, come on! Step right up everybody. No don’t be shy now.
Everybody now, that’s right. Right this way, no need to push and shove, plenty
of winnings for all.
Two young children--a ten year old boy and girl couple reminiscent of Mickey
Rooney and Judy Garland in Babes in Arms--step into the spotlight in front of
the booth. Smoke from the barker’s Marlboro envelops the blue and pink cotton
candy the kids grip. The children are agape at the stuffed animals.
BARKER
Step right on up, we’ve got dogs, pandas, snakes and gators. Or there’s
something better!
Out of nowhere the barker dangles an over-sized steel cage out with unhealthy
live rat creatures gnawing on the rusty bars.
KIDS
Wow!
BARKER
Rats! Rats! Big as cats! Denizens of the sewers of Paris, France! Twenty-five
cents, that’s all, to feed these giant killer rats! They creep from the sewers
of Paris and prey on all human flesh!
The young girl gasps in fear and amusement.
BARKER
For a quarter, your one and only chance to see the rats eat! Rats, rats! Big as
cats! Here before your very eyes…
BOY
Do they eat cotton candy?

(note: although this script is being handled with care by a WARNER BROS. agent
Matthew Skiena, and it is a tight contract, I’d like to fuse a new idea to this
project:
a. These are free ideas to be ‘exploited.’
b. Endless ‘spin-offs’ are ‘fun.’
c. While the ‘contract’ is ‘binding’ and allows no ‘leeway’ for others usage of
title and/or ideas…there is an ‘I’ll do you one better’ approach that I cannot
get enough of in ‘Hollywood-town’
d. Or as Disney explains ‘only take credit for the work you have done.’

Joke Time: As my ‘Godfather Ross, the audiophile would say’: “RCA LP’s are the
greatest of all brands of records, you can tell their value by the ‘Shaded Dog’
on the record”
(I am sorry I misplaced a gang-load of them back in the day, sir,” sayeth the
Godson…

Tagline suggestion box:
-CRIME IS OF THE ESSENCE-

“AUTHOR’S NOTE: It has been a ‘hard weeks year’…and I might have to burn in hell
for this book…compatiblist philosophy does not always work…Grave Danger awaits
us all…Sometimes I forget what is important to me, like the name of the director
of EMILE ZOLA (with actor/legend Paul Muni) or the cast names of the characters
in Robert Rossen’s HUSTLER. In fact, the pain I feel ‘stems from my rage’ when I
see the innocent little girl that is my adopted/biological sister Emilie Hope
Sheley (formerly known as Emilie Erickson), but as she suffers from a brain
degenerative disease known as Schizencephele, she undergoes seizures often, and
they are death-defying and believe me, they drive my whole family fucking
nuts…What would the ‘Elephant Man’ do? Or the Pyrenees? ZIKES! Even Science has
no cure for this problem yet, in spite of stem cell research…I remember reading
my Q’uran and the NOAH’S ARC section focuses on relieving pressure between
‘Outer Peace’ (Sunni) and ‘Inner Peace’ (Shi’ite) or ‘two of every kind at a
time.’ Also, I’m noticing narcissism in this thought-guild, due to existential
pressures, which, in terms of my Godfather, he proclaims to me, “I remember when
I was a young existentialist, even my dog wouldn’t talk to me. So, now, due to
the fact that David H. Richter compiled the following critical literature, it
proves that no matter how high you climb, there’s always someone
better…’olly-olly oxen free’ is the call of the wild…and as if that ain’t
enough, I believe that freelance ghost writing has no drawback, because it is a
shameless publicity relations gig for ‘other people’s critics’ to bring about
Liberty of Race, Fraternity of Class, and Equality of Gender (What would
de’Gaulle do?)…and if this ain’t Dallas Willard’s woodshed then I don’t know
what is, because I feel I haven’t lost my innocence…by registering myself as the
33,332 best critic, I have humbled my self entirely (although this too is
‘egoista.’ As for the Shameless Media Stunt #666, I give this whole study guide
‘four Necronomicons down’ and with any luck, I’ll be stuck on this Earth for
even having gone in this direction.”
--August 28th, 2009

INTRO TO SCIENTIFIC METHOD
o Ask a Question
o Do Background Research
o Construct a Hypothesis
o Test Your Hypothesis by Doing an Experiment
o Analyze Your Data and Draw a Conclusion
o Communicate Your Results



Rules of a mind-game titled
ROBO-CRITIC (half invented by Dylan Hardy in a ‘Basic’ computer language.
1. Question: “This is not ‘Robo-Critic,’ do you understand?”
2. Research: “No I do not.”
3. Hypothesis: “Syntax Error”
4. Test: “Fine, Be That Way…”
5. Analysis: “It is ‘Getting Better’ all the time…”—Beatles
6. Communication: ‘I should have been a female virgin lesbian communications
major.’ ETC.
“My worst sin in the church of ‘Herb’ is glass breaking and glass swallowing. Oh
well, ‘Shit Happens.’

MOVIE TITLE SUGGESTION: ‘Bases Loaded’

XLVIII—W.K. WIMSATT and MONROE C. BEARDSLEY
-The Intentional Fallacy-
“Is the Infinite of the Infinite Possible Universes’ Never-Ceasing? “Which Means
Everything exists in never-ending cycles—if posited’—Alan Smithee’s Anonymous
I-
1. A poem does not come into existence by accident—standard imposed
2. All poetry invents meaning—
3. Practical messages are more abstract then poetry
4. Ananda K. Coomerasway
Dictionary
1-has the artist achieved his intentions “Ezekiel to AREA 54 cometh…”
2-includes a skillful poem
5. Upon an artistic canonization, (like Buddhist ‘mappo’) This prevents the
creation from leaving us even after death.
II-Goethe’s 3 questions for ‘constructive criticism’
1-“What did the author set out to do?”
2-‘Was his plan reasonable and sensible and how far did he succeed in carrying
it out’” (What if St. Philip really did ‘teleport’ in the book of ACTS, or what
if reading ‘upside-down’ leads to reading right side-up?)

Example answers:
1- To achieve greatness
2- Partially unreasonable, not-quite sensible and you are only as successful as
the last piece of criticism you read.

III – What is a ‘dithyramb’
(rhyme patterns) (musical device)
To tame a page

Password of school’s intent:
Sincerity – integrity (honesty and charisma)
Fidelity – relevance (challenging and intellectually sound)
Spontaneity – unity (changing and wholeness)
Authenticity – function (ontological originality – necessary material)
Genuineness – maturity (rarity and growth)
Originality – Subtlety (without flaw at a less is more)
Adequacy – Expression (gets by with flying colors)

IV- The realm of literary scholarship-
1-“evidence of type internal is also public/moderately with that of type ‘cast’”

2-“will in the long run produce a different sort of comment”
3-“intermediate kind of evidence about the character—where it shades into.”

A Valediction, Forbidden Mourning
By John Donne
Moving of th’ earth brings harmes and feares
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheres
Though greater farve, is innocent.

Responsive Poem
By Aaron S.
Movement changes from season to season
Unusual the way people works
Fear is only a circle away again
Behind me many a gunman lurks

Copernicus—exiled into legendom…
1-celestial motion, calm and normal (smooth and regular) in attempt to bring no
fear
2-there is movement surrounding and on Earth
3-trepidation—nature’s own personal “cease-fire”
4-reckoning (langue) left to right word flow of (parole) or up and down word
flow
Heliocentric nature loving
Interconnected Goddess Worship
Lineage Mother Earth
Forward thrust =geocentric (internalization)

V-In consultation of anti-mysticism and anti-mystification of the balloon of
metaphysics is running out of helium and beginning to collapse into itself as
though it will never be back around, as metaphysics disappear so too do really
bad dreams, bad drug trips, tiring philosophies and a math code that leads to
meaninglessness. Only in artistry may one employ post-physicist philosophies,
but even then, exceptionless choices get burned and the people who use them.

Either “Last One There is a Rotten Egg (aesthetic)”/ Or “Serve the Servants”
(ethic)

Because Kierkegaard spices up the left-wing with the Right Side of ‘or,’ he
fuels the Right Wing on the left side of ‘either.’

Or ‘if there is a God then why does it matter if anyone believes in him? Because
if there isn’t then it matters more to believe (Narrow is the Gate and Few will
Enter).

Telepathy takes time to transmit—(usually about three days to receive 120
percent of messages)
SUICIDE is GENOCIDE but GENOCIDE is not SUICIDE

MOVIE OF THE YEAR (in my book)
Orson Welles’ CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT (The Best of Shakespeare’s Falstaff Sequences,
in Fragments)

Bound by physics
S=stable
B=break
(picture an apple falling off of a tree of life (S) and conking someone on the
head)
W=weight
Stability and breaking point=weight and displacement (D) of weightless air =
gravity
Or, in a flawless sense S + B=W + D minus W=gravity (or in a perfect world
1/3.14) if c=2 pi r at mid-range of falling apple.

C/r=6.28r/r
C/r=6.28/2
So if C=1
R=2
Then a perfect circle is 1/3.4

Wittgenstein Tractatus theorem HERE:
German
English
Daraus konnte formalin auskommen
Whence follow property please

The photographic eyes:
Bare Bones
1. Please be quiet (q)
2. Delineate True and False
(T) (F)
3. th’truth combines in a solemn method
4. Equilibrium to nothing doing


Equation
Z (depth of field). B as in “boy” multiplied by “q” as in “quiet”
Divided by
‘p’ as in ‘purpose’ demagnified by “q” as in “query” multiplied by “proof” to
the first power (or just plain proof)

Exit Spell: THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME
Or
Silencio in quietude o’ people’s peaceful ‘tautology’ establishing empirical
refutation.



XLIX—“Whereof one cannot think, think in silence”
CLEANTH BROOKS—IRONY AS A PRINCIPLE OF STRUCTURE
Tragic irony—Oedipus—an accidental crime leads to several accidents
(depends upon illogical signifiers)

Self-irony-Christ on the cross quoting, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me?”
(depends on self-critique)

Playful irony- i.e.
A “Lost and Found” bin at school
(depends on child-like confusion) (see also Tenacious D’s Tribute)
Continues…
Arch irony- nothing is sacred
(the valueness of value)
Mocking irony- nothing can be overdone
(mimicry and a slight teasing of others)
Gentle irony- i.e. “The dark-side of Beatle-mania.”
(if you do not like someone, let them down easy with a combatiblist agenda-less
agenda)
--in short irony is a cultural context of misnomers, typically meaningless and
non-abrasive
LEXICON-“Directing attention to aspects of poetic words which only a new model
or analogy can bring into view, in formulating new ideas of excellence”

The irony—“I have taken ‘Midol’ as a man, to experience the pain of a woman. Or
why doesn’t someone invent a male contraceptive pill (more on this later; Like
valium/lithium combination with a ‘Viagra’ booster pack) so that females do not
have to suffer alone during birth control phases.”

NEXUS—sporadic random data the sometimes melds to create less confusion and is
at other times way off the page.

Together they form components of systematized language.

L. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample) res + verba
Subject matter and language
R.S. CRANE—Toward a More Adequate Criticism of Poetic Structure
Essay response: “…allegories, apologues, fables, parables, exempla, thesis or
propaganda drama and novels.”
Allegories are social imprints of artistic symbols used to mitigate thematic
codes—“like a grain of sand within a grain of sand, so are our minds in the ways
of true omniscience…”
Apologues—inserted diction that thwarts movement in a text to steady the
reader’s gaze. (PSALMIST: I know whether you’re standing or sitting, in hell or
heaven…etc.)
Fables-Imaginative statements
i.e. “Beautiful Apocalypse”
Parables-Comparable “envisages” or theoretical frameworks for narratology
Exempla-“hypothesis of structure”
Thesis-“extensive…general knowledge”
Propaganda==how to end the myth of ‘contraband’
Novels-Grand Narrative Resource
Substratum
-a go between philosophy of language-
Interpersonal-an author’s touch-
Together they can form keys, which shrink or grow
To fit into any locked message and get through any challenge by unlocking them
(like a mold.)

“jouissance”
(French for enjoyment)

BABYLON REBORN
Come out of your shell
Take part in sinfulness
Share punishment equally
The bullshit is piling up all around us
Treat your lovers responsibly
Pay your way out for paying in
Spend your art-film power and knowledge
Is a word fast that leads
You to the glory of Mary Jane

Philosopher-queens
Send energy to widows deflect grief for past lovers
Why doth plague, disease, grief and famine burn alongside Deborah the Hebraic
Judge or was it the kinder Goddess of Peace, Appolonia?

LATIN STUDY KEY (From Wheelock’s Latin CHAPTER 34)

Latin-deponent verbs (active and passive)
Principal Parts and Conjugation
1. Indicative
Present Indicative
Hortor-I urge

Present Infinitive
Fateri- to confess

Perfect Indicative
Secutus (-a –um) sum,
I followed
1.hortor, I urge
2.horataris (-re), you urge
3.hortatur, he urges
1.hortamur, we urge
2.hortamini, you urge
3.hortantur, they urge
IMPERFECT
1.hortabar, I was urging
2.hortabaris, you were urging
3.hortantur, they urge

IMPERFECT
1.hortabar, I was urging
2.hortabaris, you were urging

FUTURE
1.hortabitur, he will urge

PERFECT
Hortatus- a- um- sum—I urged

PLUPERFECT
Horatatus- a- -um eram—I had urged

FUTURE PERFECT
Hortatus –a -um ero—I shall have urged

SUBJUNCTIVE PRESENT
Horter, horteris
Hortetur

IMPERFECT—hortatrer, hortarereis
PERFECT—hortatus –a, -um, sim, sys
PLUPERFECT-hortatus –a, -um

(The only thing wrong with this answer key, is that the accents are not above
the words, which inflect the syllabic measure of which letter, consonant and
vowel to inflect and how…)
--fate, fatal, addition theory
“You may add, but why take away?”

CONTEMPORARY MOVIE PREFERENCE: Zhang Yimou’s CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER
Recommended LP: Bob Dylan’s SLOW TRAIN A’ COMING (on vinyl for optimal playback
audiophilia)

Joke: “Done there, been that, what now?”

BLUE MAGE: Bring me the ‘red’ pages

Dominicae Mariae immannenciae immaculatae—amotare—immaculatum immanencium
manericum celum Judaicum

Ae=female conjugate
Um=male conjugate

(Author’s Note: Don’t you think I’m a bit young to literally have a fake left
hip and compression back fracture due to falling in the shower after quitting
‘valium’ and ‘watching RULES OF ENGAGEMENT: (THE WACO STORY)’ all because of
some probable over-exposure to Uranium as a Child? Oh well, Life is not Fair,
and in a way, I hope it never will be. Of course, because I have treated my
MENTORS with unfair hatred, I was nearly shot and killed…of course, journeys to
the hospital do really work for 19th NERVOUS BREAKDOWN purposes only..I guess
the Trojan Mafia really does serve a purpose…”

The Lighter Side
SPECTRUM (The four after-life options)
INFERNO pt.1—TARTARUS—CHRISTIAN BIBLE WHERE DEMONS GO TO BE TRAPPED (Back Fire)
“a bottomless pit”
PURGATORY pt.2—GHENNA—HEBRAIC SCRIPTURE (inertia) “weeping and gnashing of
teeth” or “dust to dust, ashes to ashes”
PURGATORY pt.3—SHEOL—HEBRAIC SCRIPTURE (Blind Faith) “The Lord is my Shepherd,”
and how does he go out of his way to find Lost Sheep.
PARADISE pt.4—HADES—EPIPHANY (Prism) “If you are reading this, you are already
there.”

(Note: Wouldn’t it be nice if Scientologists and Dianeticians had their own
personal TV Channel…or at least a TV Show for anthropological engineered
ethics?)

A CHART OF MY CURRENT ROCK MUSICAL FAVORITES
Contemporary (INDIE ROCK)
1. Radiohead
2. Beck
3. Tool
4. Ween
5. Gorrilaz
6. Death in Vegas

COLORADO FOLK LORE ROCK (talent that I helped to discover, along with venues)
1. TOE
2. SHOTGUN HODOWN
3. LOADED 45
4. KAT HUNTER
5. CLIFF BASS
6. PINEAPPLE CRACKERZ
7. DAVID LUFF and COMPANY

“It pays to be polite…as my recently passed Grandmothers have urged me to be…May
they rest in peace…”
“Otherwise, you cannot say that here, and you are carrying too much…”
(GO ON TO NEXT PAGE---)


RANDOM FILM REVIEW:
PASOLINI’S MEDEA
“Don’t Panic”
Pasolini’s Eternal Flame of Demythologization to intensify homosexual lust.
Medea--a key figure of verisimilitude, is the author’s absence from characters’
of prededication of inequality where verbal mythology collides and is a
subjugate to deconstruction. The female impetus is adroit to isolate the
over-derivation of the Goddess figurehead of the title’s nominal heroin status
preconfabulation of her mentality of a land without desire. Her sacrificial act
of cannibalistic ritual (in devotion to Greco-Roman epic deities)
self-destructivity of the home (when she fire bombs her own temple with black
witchcraft or ‘red’ magick) awakens junctures of her intent; to obliterate her
husband’s foolhardy guest of world domination—via the beheading of his enemies
through sexual enticement. Yet, the love is never reciprocated between the
foreboding oracular centaur narrating the text. Jason (of the Argonauts) is
rarely explicit and his appearance reveals obsession with war, sport and sexual
deprivation

Like Animalae vs. the ‘out-of-date’ Animism

Or ‘a victim of circumstance’ (believe me, I can relate…)

(Author’s Rant: What would Peter Wollen do? If there ever was a connection
between signs and signifiers it would be the ‘Surrender Dorothy’ line written in
the sky by the Wicked Witch of the West and the ‘No Trespassing’ sign on
Citizen Kane’s Xanadu gate. I just finished recording an awesome jam session
with Matthew Crowe, Matt K. and Josh Franklin, this too is an interesting time.
If some mad incarnate of angelic hordes were to flock to Earth, like Cherubim’s
(singing angels that knocked down the walls of Jericho) not unlike the final
shot of Capra’s ‘It Happened One Night’, or better yet, the strange ways of the
unknown giants, possessed by Nephilim (Angel of Death style) that must have
gotten under Joseph Breen’s skin in the age of the Legion of Decency or save the
best for last, the Seraphim, which are the last to command the virgin Mary to
‘Be Not Afraid,’ or as Natural Born Killers concedes, “Only Love beats a demon.”
Well as this Biblical nonsense piles up all around us, let us check out the
temerity of the reparations of the real holy trinity of what we breath in
everyday…the solid component of air is solid carbon 20%, liquid oxygen 10% and
the gaseous nitrogen at 70%, which makes me wonder, how the hell do any of these
elements combine to become breathable at all? Who cares, because As Alexandre
Astruc’s ‘camera pen’ shatters all ‘breathless’-ly agape oxygen (As though the
agit-prop-train of KINO EYE in the sky (which sees everything) except now that
Google Earth watches over us all, pretty much proves the point, ‘do not come in,
the water’s not fine…’ I am beginning to realize there was more than meets the
eye to the fear and trembling I felt on the Campaign Trail of ’08. Perhaps what
goes up must not come down and maybe what goes down, stays down—Meanwhile I am
suffering from ‘book bag’ separation anxiety—or as Jim Hale, who has suffered
enough under my bane, would say, ‘you are a perpetual college student’ proves
that the ‘Savage Messiah’ is all around us. Of course, you cannot be everything
for all people at once. Even with the power of my newfound ‘Script-gnosis’,
which in a safe postmodern sense means even “That shizzle dizzle don’t mean a
hizzle dizzle bizzle.” I have a strange feeling that this may be the last time
the Catholics convert an ex-Southern Baptist to their rigid peaceful ways. Of
course, I am now here to solve the problem with OPM (Other People’s Money) which
proves the best thing about post-modernity is that love is really just a ‘Bad
Movie Fest’ away…the whole sham is a ‘set-up’ straight out of something like
‘Wrongfully Accused’ meets ‘Saw VI’ meets ‘Hot Shots: Part Deux’ meets ‘The
Littlest Ho House in Tejas’ meets ‘Bloodbath at the House of Death.’ If only
there could be a movie that combined forces with Jack Smith’s ‘Flaming
Creatures’ and the third installment of Canadian work ‘Anne of Green Gables’
which no-one has seen. Which begs the question, what would Ed Wood do? If ever I
could use a nice long bong rip from my old piece “Pandora” or a small shot from
the “Icarus” or the “Schopenhauer,” alas I destroyed all three over some
gorgeous gal who never let me down. Now at least, I have my indestructi-chron,
as though it popped out of a ‘Magritte’ paining, to rescue me from the days of
BOON, where I conspired to end fascism with G.W. (and of course, the nice thing
about time travel is that if you saw it happen, then it cannot be changed),
Melies Grave (where again, I gave him the exact change he needed to finish his
magic show, only after saying all seven of the Forbidden Swear-Words that you
cannot say on the radio—Carlin style), Samuel’s haunting ‘Holy Ghost’ and the
Forbidden Archives of ancient days…Now I know why ‘brave sir Robin ran away,’ in
the Holy Grail delusion…If only I had known what was wrong with the war in the
middle East before my cousin Evan Sheley was shipped out, Dennis Wilson the
math-junky air fighter, and Curtis Thompson, the last bastions of good faith in
our community. I’m sure it is time to bring our ‘Soldier Boys’ home. If ever the
fix was in, I’d say that a football play like a ‘skilling spree’ or the two
offensive ends rush to the sidelines in hook formation, whereas the offensive
linemen defeat the nearly off-sides ‘blitz-krieg bop’ whereas the quarter-back
launches one out to the un-defended player and they run it in for at least a
first down. I must admit, while the irrationalism will never die in my heart,
this rule will defeat my old ‘grudge’ against the PG-13 rating in film forever,
‘Either don’t or Be Careful, Either with or without reservations’ like the near
sex I had on the dance floor a few months ago. Perhaps you don’t want to know.
This leaves so many choices open for an option that it is funny. Technically,
the best offense is a good defense and vice versa. I owe quite a bit of my
newfound critical ‘fireworks’ not only to Kenneth Anger, who saved my ass awhile
back during the ‘acid-trip’ from hell and more particularly to Mathew
Klickstein, who invited my damned, forsaken soul into the ‘promised land’ of
ENTERTAINMENT TODAY, insofar as I only wrote about art films, ‘preferentially,’
and while I have yet to reveal the mistakes I made along the way, there is no
wrong way to be a ‘consensual’ partner, in the game of sexistentialism…do you
understand? Click on this link for more information,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calendar_(film) and remember, the only good
‘Calendar’ is an arbitrary one, Stephen Jay Gould style. To condone, or to
uncondone, that is the question…Of course, after gunning down a couple of
‘bucks’ at an early age, I’ve had some kind of strange animal ghost Karma
following me around ever since, ‘The Deer Hunter’-style, which makes me wonder,
What would Annie Oakley do? If there are members of the cinematic ‘Knight
Templars’ in search of the missing ‘witch’ footage from ‘Patchwork Girl of Oz’ I
mistakenly lost, head out to Niece’s Museum of Contemporary Art, where there is
a 3-D topographical identical image of such, however, if it is no longer there,
ask the museum curator what became of their ‘Hubley’ exhibit etc. And don’t
forget to check out the ‘missing link’ of evolutionary history, in the
Luxembourg underground, in Germany, if it is still nearby the Egyptian
sarcophagi…if it is no longer there still, again, the museum curator would
know..more of this later…Rant off”)

Time Out for Toy Medium (for now, anyway, as a free for all)
INTRO—Madria Poetica
‘If’ ‘Air is air’ ‘task of poetry’ Orpheus rainbow riddles away surrealist sound
of literary sign and issues ripple conceptions of
Epistme=materialism
Elaborate=icons
Natural philos of rhetoric stoic practice of epicurean imagery
Without cynicism
Or uninvited math
(over-imposed)
Persistence of the law of the beguiler or the corruptor for all time greatest
mentor—Jon Wagner—and in case this goes to your ego allow the Oppressor to blow
off steam—with iconophilic mediation—however tentative
Only ‘Gideon’ knows of the metaphysical photo-copier and this rule shall always
remain!
Correspondence of fictive passion (like poetry and idolatry)…with a Ph.D. in
hand, apparitions of Ginsberg are ‘howling’ in the assemblage of
mediation—masking politics in matter
Vichian—science knowledge
(lyric poetry)
Material substance
Distinct
Poetics
Lyric-idea
Approach matter with
Distinct care
Same time historical
Modern lyric
Corporeal qualities
(What would PIXAR do?)
Dada Cabaret Voltaire
At the 1936 Berlin Olympics
Modern physics of the atom
World picture|bodies
Wielded to divergent effect—
Immune to non-receptive modes
Of the end ‘dislike’ in poetic effects to oscillate
To the antithetical—
“ghost-dance tapes”
‘soul’
(Interestingly, whatever is stolen is always returned quickly, this too is no
excuse)
Produced by disappearing modes
Of relation superformative and
Representational like Indian-demon luller ‘Bill Miller’s Reservation Road’ which
constitutes the ephermal genealogy of modern technical media-crucial positions
are all around us to balance culture.

REVOLUTION 9 (exposed)
Amidst the Beatles’ White Album explosion in the marketeering of cultural
explosion in the marketeering of cultural dependency on rigid motherfucking
beatlemania there is no other way to bring them back to life is to be
sacramented in to all of their values and listen to the actual album, without
transcending their throne—
Let us skip to Rolling Stones and pitch out a chord for ‘Paint it Black’s’
structure and irrationality.

Cue:
“I see a red door and I want to paint it black.”

Cue (i) in repetition
“No time for colors anymore, I want to them to turn black”
Then cue (v) a repetitious line-wave, which happen again in the second half of
the chorus—
Or take a rigid approach for the second-half of verse 2/chorus 2 and you get the
lyric “I could not foresee this thing happening to you”

The pomo approach is that this too is meaningless, which is really what
nonsensical verses confused people by fitly tighting into a world of pure
Beatlemania—this too has only the value of understanding ascribed by penitent
math key’s as found in BOOK 8 of Plato’s Republic (see opening of this book)
which out condones that which is chosen (like symbiotic, identical, rowdy twins)
and a world of ‘toy soldiers’ and marketing ploys that divert attention from
‘lyrical’ reality.
What if disc two was riddled with cultural implications of an over peaceful
vision that declared victory in every respect by shouldering the collective
conscience. Let’s just put it this way to the remaining Beatles—until ‘death’ do
us part—as mentioned ‘Hard Day’s Night’ turns to ‘Hard Week’s Year’ in this
nexus, do you understand?
What syntactical word will devalue my generational curses without being
recommended to touch base with saving a true historian of critical culture
before it destroys him in a wake of theft, as he has truly not
found a way out of except hysteria for occultic principles of pre-mapped,
white-washed Hidden Fortress of Beatle-maniac rules to uphold, which means to
keep all rules secret until the actual day of market reckoning.
Would it be heretical for artists and stowaways for the pop-philosophy
culture—like for instance Edwin McCann at USC, for example—to live through the
ultimate revelation of battle lyrics that they are only allowed to be toyed with
by the four of them, dead or alive—I prefer alive, obviously, to out-brigade the
unbridgeable—Why is it then during transcendental meditation #9 creates a power
struggle of friendship codes that cannot out struggle friendship codes that
cannot out strengthen the ways of the alive if you are hearing the words and
that alone—
How do we rewind to the 60’s by walking backwards in film terms
New Millennium—In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar Wai)
90’s—Fallen Angels
80’s—Berlin-Alexanderplatz
70’s—Salo
60’s—“Hard Day’s Night”
Or Psycho (even Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Stopped Worrying and
Learned to Love the Bomb)
Let us take from Disc 2’s underground chorus that in some parallel equation fits
nicely fits nicely into a ‘spectrum’ of eternal resonance—which out spectates
definitive codes of recyclable codes of the meta-spectrum which brings promises
of the anti-defilement color coded stu sucliffe lovin’, Billy Preston lovin’
origins and endings—although the reason for the break-up of the band came down
to light and simple disagreements over money and fashion fads—which is the
ultimate cultural struggle that ties us all to a frozen fencepost which is a no
brainer because you must decide what idols to burn out of the way in the once
initiated parameters of rhythm when early phases of folk rock appear in ‘Rocky
Raccoon’ on Disc One and heavy metal in ‘Helter-Skelter’ (or, as my stay in a
homeless shelter in L.A. reminds of, a ‘Helter-Shelter’) on Disc 2 which are
just two poles of opposition, examine that there is a ‘honey pie’ on Disc Two
which out stylizes all music codes

Take a look at Disc Two’s
“Yer Blues”
¾--I 8 bars of 4/5 rhythm patterns which fits into the harmonic permeations like
this lyric “I’m lonely…”
¾ divided by 4/5
Is ¾ times 5/4 = 15/16
So four steady music notes
I’m Lone-ly Wan-na Die
2 ½+1/2 ½ + 1/3 3
Define a 15/16 rhythm until the next part of Choral I which is a holistic 5/6
vs. 16/16 or 1 approach between let us examine the lyric
“If I ain’t dead already”
Falling in line with a chorus in a 4 for rhythm over 4 for harmony which also
delineates rhythm over 4 for harmony, which also delineates rhythm over 4 for
harmony sound tempo structure and formula—death is the only way out of this
rigid box-design with reservations.
So I guess the moral of Revolution #9 is somewhat immortal due to the
constraints and time pressures that could not be out mediated, or
substandardized—repetitious structure mold breaker rhythmic chaos of life, birth
and understanding creates a mind-quake of different ‘Anaxagorian’ or a
volcano-diver theory (if only we could freeze-frame time before the ‘bastard’
burned). Remember the ways of ‘Icarus’ and choose instead ‘Daedalus’ his father
(who was locked away in a tower, and some say, he flew away without wings being
melted etc.) or let us just be human and demand that it is right to tithe to the
Church of Beatles with gratitude, importance and a non-chalant Abbey Road
defender to go into the Let It Be Zone—or “Block That Kick”

I guess even now, it is impossible to block the bullet for old Jon Lennon,
because the last thing he would want would be for anyone to die (unless they
demolished Western Civilization like two or three things I know about
Easterners)

(Go to next page for the clincher)

--LP collection—

1. PLEASE PLEASE ME
2. MEET THE BEATLES
3. WITH THE BEATLES
4. HARD DAY’S NIGHT
5. HELP!
6. RUBBER SOUL
7. REVOLVER
8. SGT. PEPPER’S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND
9. MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR
10. WHITE ALBUM
11. YELLOW SUBMARINE
12. ABBEY ROAD
13. LET IT BE
14. PASTMASTERS I
15. PASTMASTERS II


TOY MEDIUM—CHAPTER I (Or how I traded art school for my ‘women,’ Iliad style…Now
that is a noble cause…)
Recommended Screening: EXXXHAUSTED: The John Holmes Story (believe me, I know
how he feels, even after maintaining somewhat of my virginity for almost 7 years
now…I guess what matters about trips to the hospital is you always find out that
you have no diseases and are intransmutable…what a relief!)
Poetics and Materialism ‘Curious’ having a body seest ‘consuming wound’
LYRIC SUBSTANCE|SUBSTANTIAL ROLE
Modern reader
Take a pair of six sided die and no two roles will have equivocal natures
1 2 3 4 5 6
12
2 4
3 6
4 8
5 10
6 12

Increasing incorporeal/modern lyrics—
Heidegger diagnostics root science
‘age of the world picture’
‘open place’


Now, here is a Wittgenstein proof that all equations must pass to enter the
level of Gen-Y
‘they are all the rage’
P or q
Truth or possible
True or False

False or True
Truth or grounds
Numbers or propositions
Truth
p-must be true for all equations is it true or false or a mere proposition—
two negations create a positive
assertion of the falsities of incorrectness.
If truth and negativity connect—tautology—or order in justice revolves from two
oppositional words—in other words let’s say “x” is a situational ethic and
fulcrum times ethics demagnetized by falsities times assertions digging such
bulky nights of dim last descriptions. This too is meaningless (remember, by
Wittgenstein’s own Philosophical Investigations, the only way out is a number
series of zero’s multiplied by zeros to even level absolute zero (-270 degrees)

Joke: “Everytime I touch ‘page’ I’m a mushroom cloud deflecting
motherfucker-motherfucker!”

The only cure for Wittgenstein is more Wittgenstein (grammar school style)
Pg. 123 (Tractatus)
A priori meets a posteriori
Pg. 123
Operatio N’
N’=Third truth-function
(Nominal)
(E)=2nd truth-function
(nous)
Omega (to the first power) times (nous)=(sentence-operative)
Pattern your sentence here
[2nd truth, 3rd truth]
Verb noun
2nd truth
Verb]1 times (nous)
Adjective
LOGIC=[nous (adjective), verb, Noun, verb])
(transition to next proposition)
X=(structure)
Omega (to the zero power) times Definition
Sentence disappears to be defined
And
Final standard times structure to the volume of verbiage multiplied by
structure=final by the power of verbiage when one extra verb is added to the
power of use (multiplied by structure for Definition)

Or

Final standard (times) structure to the volume of verbiage multiplied by
structure to the volume of verbiage multiplied by structure=final by the power of
verbiage when one extra verb is added.

Thus here is the series
Structure=final nothingness
Or
Structure, final structure times structure
….
Structure, final structure, last word of final structure, three multipliers of
final structure…
=(or is as)
Blank word times structure
Single logic of attraction times structure,
Two logic lock downs times structure,
And so on…
Therefore substitute
(structure, truth-function, sentence operative, truth-function)
(lack of definition times structure, linking verb of structure, final verb to
the power of one addition times structure)

Dante Revisited: Twas Mahomet that went to the Inferno, not Mohammed!

SUGGESTED SCREENING: THE GREAT ZIEGFELD

LI. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES—THE TRIALS OF PRE-CRITIC ORDEALS—The longest word in the
book Disestablishmentarianisms—I –from readership to practicism, when reading,
the entire article must be read from start to finish for maximum effect. (i.e.
an author like Joyce invent them to the point of pure abstraction.)
II.—The formulaic equations are an undead theoretic mind fuck made less
disastrous when evened out by the “shape-land.” Only elliptical narratives
within a box of dogmatic “isms” square frame can salvage a perfect memory—
III-“What if in the future every movie played on a loop on its own channel?”
Every constant must stand alone—every substance must travel—Formulaic delusions
pass through an eye of a needle by remaining humble, lowering egotism and
dissolving class built hierarchies of linguistic burgoise heresies. Then again,
isn’t honesty humility?
IV
Designs are linguistically annihilated when war tine defies sentiment and shreds
through a history like a bat out of hell—language is like a rotating looking
glass that repositions itself in one room in order to see and reflect another
mirror image so we can all speak to each other in a collective phase. (A Time
for Peace)

V
“James Joyce, the only writer with balls to show up to his own funeral and eat
himself while in living form—see also Finnegan’s Wake.”
Only a chain kept tight will stabilize an effect of darkness, but there is
always room for shadowy knowledge…looming together words that create a
coloration to a background of lit up resources.

VI-“When textual pressure releases outsiderness is achieved, but don’t forget to
return into the language cavernous canon to remember the words”—Plato’s Cave
Mythos (cont)
--literature—structure
--vignettes—multi-layered design
--epiphanies—comprehension

VII—In programmable luscious origins of evolution’s progress and anti-progress
dark critiques resonate with dilemmas to be solved through detection.
Subliminally speaking generative codification restores through word
discovery—dead language resurrects honesty of a comfort-zone and that alone

LII. JAMES PHELAN
--Narrative as Rhetoric—
Magic Gird pt.:
Interiors---logic----Probe
Exteriors---logics---Guides

Power---formula---Time
Essences----formulas----Moneys
End---equation---Division
Begins---equations----skeptics

ii.heterodiegesis—(multi-narrative inclusion)
(within the text of presented happenings without effects)
HEBRAIC SIX POINTED STAR—Star of David
Lantern---Golden Light
T=taleph Confusion
Clarity is not equal to ||||||||
LIFE Death

(positive words) (negative words)

Edwin Porter’s
GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY
(1909) “There is no excuse to hate on any film before or after this one…
Theft-----dance hall------lost woods
Protagonists stimulations-------dance halls-----train gun battle

DECONSRUCTION
Impose
Random Structure Meaningless
For
Life
PRAGMATISM

iii. static---prism---light
colors===----darks
same-----spectrum----difficult
differences---spectrums----easiest
work-------money----servitude
labors-----moneys-----manuals

iv. Institutional Magic
--Politics of Interpretation
After Poststructuralism

Words and thoughts generate conceptual reality---positive words increase
life-spans, like the phrase ‘happy to be here’ or as a way to change a system
antifoundationtionalist
Or
‘rhetorical interpretation’
In other words the more you read a document the less it seems to change—but only
a modern/postmodern text changes while you read it to meld to your conscious,
particularly when read in sequence.
-
Rhetoric—
Knowledge---respect for authority
Feelings---equal treatment.

Values---discipline
Beliefs---(all beliefs are free to have but not all are free to share.)
Author, text and audience
Interaction---value in media to charge as populous change…exchange---monetary
for consumer product…

UNIT TWO (POST-FORMALISM)

LIII. (zenophilia—a love for cultures and differences, without necessarily
changing) –A.S.

Ferdinand de Saussure
Pictures and words form mind imprints of concepts—
Sound-images-‘phonemes’—sounds and syllable (if a word starts with a letter that
you hear starts with a letter on a page then the concept is combined.)

Sign concept sound-image
---- ------- --------
Word signified signifier

2.I---arbitrary sign
1.Nothing always means what it means in linguistics
2.Words mean different things in different languages (especially similar
languages---see also---false cognate)

Symbol---particular characteristic of rudimentary bonds between signifier and
sign.
Arbitrary---no significant connection.

2. Linear Nature of the signifier/signifiers are strings of thoughts, ideas,
theories and actions that come across either positive or negative (rigidity
leads you to think in only one mode.)


LIV. Claude Levi-Strauss
Levi-Strauss’ structural study of Myth
Essay response:
Not everything can be explained in words or perception actionless thoughts and
intentions have no consequences. Computer programming begins when number strings
are organized in patterns and then set to a graphic chart

Like a grading scale where an “A” is from 100-92, a B is a 91 to an 83, a C is
82 to a 79, a D is a 78 to a 75 and an “F” is everything below…this gradient for
Master’s studies follows this formula A=(0,0) (-2,-2) (-4,-4) B=(-8,-8) C=(-32)
D=(-35) and F=(-50) to set a certain curve gradient in order for the class to
follow along…

Oedipal and post-Oedipal studies lead me to believe that men are sexually
attracted to their mother’s due to memories at childbirth but puberty makes this
urge go away. Also, male children develop hatred toward men that seem to
threaten their mother—this goes on forever. Centrifuge (sic) exists in mythos
(all art forms have myths as well as all religions---today myths are endlessly
mixed, matched and changed anyway we want them to be and we get away with it. AS
long as the ethics are preferably “humbling” (or any other ethical facet.)

LV. GERARD GENETTE

FRONTIERS OF NARRATIVE
“Words mix like chemicals---some are conducive to structure (left-wing) and some
have a standard (right-wing) in the middle ground is pure abstraction…”A.S.
In the crossfire of linguistic interchangeability only a suspension of
theoretical discourse creates an irritant that either makes or breaks you. In a
way only film stock of a reel of pieced together frames can create a loss of
politics and religion. Only cinema has the power to stop pointless war,
religious heresies that make no sense to anyone except those at the top of the
totem pole, and by the way, a true cineaste gives up everything for
cinema---most artists take this route to improve work on their projects without
attracting a wave of muck-raking—although there is always room for fictitious
fan cults—a D.W. Griffith-esque fancult—in his bios he lied about everything to
cut off outside propaganda at the quick—The reason BIRTH OF A NATION is racist
is because of suffrages of people that care only about film and do not care what
message they send. Incidentally, the more power, time and money you submit to a
singular idea alone, focus often occurs. Artists that have very little capital
make decent art as do artists with a lot—it is an important hidden alliance.
Then again, old methodologies produce more alliances with old methodologies
generating ideas that are out of date. The day for racial oppression is
over—although sometimes it takes the world’s most ‘racist’ film to commemorate
the end of racism.
Anyway, Gennette links intrusion with narrative contrary to “laws” of
taste”—what you cannot love you fear (filials vs. phobias.)
Then again, doesn’t problematic authorship end the idea that all art is
collective and created only by ideas and words plucked out of a collective mass
of universal texts? I believe that even these ideas are similar in that they are
both overused. (structure or standard.)

LVI. JONATHAN CULLER—LITERARY COMPETENCE
Only use words you are willing to defend with ideas that work out in formulaic
abstraction—if a word does not suit you or will defame you, it might be a bad
idea to use it.
“metaphorical operators are semantic transformers”
Poetry—“harmonious totalities, autonomous natural organisms.”
Wisdom and knowledge are only a variable way of looking at factual truth.
Prototype is a selection of plausible mode of representation, particularly
related to performance, character and persona. When qualified by a stratum (an
ideal choice of selecting words in a pool of collective theories, knowledge,
thoughts, coincidences and things heard and unheard.)
A picture of an object produces an effect of objectification when the viewer’s
interior baggage is nullified. Subjective values, however, rely on an attachment
to exterior resources (materials—materials as in this case of writing, the
object is to read an article in a book and writing about it with pen and paper.)
Thus , materials access the goal of inferential thoughts through a trial—in this
case the goal is criticism—thus, if this message is never taught then the whole
point goes to waste (even this is not a problem in a ‘trial and error’
substratum or post-contextuality’)


LVII—TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
UMBERTO ECO
MYTH OF SUPERMAN
By way of examining comics and other arts—Eco lays off the heavy pop cultural,
low-brow cult and focuses only on the value of interwoven stories, which create
reliable fantasy. Superman’s love life completely redeems him for Romantic
females, while his good versus evil approach will always work for everyone.
In his article, Eco promotes the FANTOMAS saga as a vehicle for detective work
in an overwhelmingly evil realm, amongst and wicked people that appear in many
forms and disguises. What would happen if the ‘caped crusader’ fought the
villains that ‘Juve’ fights in Fantomas?
It is an impossible combination because Superman exists in aesthetic
metaphysical dreamland and Fantomas, while a touch of the occult spices up the
viewing experience, it is still bound by laws of physics.
Are not comics only physically amicable in package (materials), while
metaphysical imagination empowers them through conduits of interlocution?
Whereas, film as a Bazinian camp would have it is an imprint of what is seen by
the camera (albeit objects are manipulated in formal camps, as well as realist),
thus films are quite respectively, physically and mentally bound, at least until
they become a bit more interactive—between collective minds and imagery.

(misc. regeneration)
Variable dispensation (simile)
Random condensation (metaphor)

LVIII-JACQUES DERRIDA
Structure, sign and play in the Discourse of the Human Sciences
“No doubt that by….organizing the coherence of the system, the freeplay of its
elements inside the total form.”

Eidos—essence—form
Constitution of structure
Process of signification

Arche—esxistence---origin
Totality of an era—(play, interpretation and sign—or self-proximity,
onto-theology and paradox.)
Telos-substance—purpose
Formal schema, cultural anthropology
(dislocating to metaphysics_

Energeia—substance—energy
Element of discourse
Measured by critical rigor
Problems: economy and strategy

Ousia—being
Thread between nature and culture
Physics and names…physics and technique
Nature vs. culture nature vs. art
Aletheia-truth

Ibis—the center of attention (in a for the moment atmosphere)
Variable universal norms—
No longer tolerates nature/culture opposition

Factum—a viable theory until refutation and repudiations dissipate caustic or
'inethical' domains.

Ontology—reintegrate culture into nature/reintegrate life into physiochemical
conditions (see also Levi-Strauss’ Savage Mind)

Freeplay-a field of infinite substitutions in the closure of a finite ensemble.

Ethical wisdom—unwavering test of endurance
(hold on for dear life)
Conception---without deception
Formation—formula creation
Gestation—nourishment of words
Labor—necessary pain (inertia, impetus, initiative

LIX. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
A LIST OF SOREN KIERKEGAARDS’ (pseudonyms)
Victor Eremita (victory for my auntie…loosely translated)
Climacus (climax character)
Anticlimacus (against the climax character)
Frater Taciturnus (Father Cumbersome…loosely translated)
Constatine Constantius (secret sustained)

MICHEL FOUCAULT
‘What is an Author?”
Essay Response:
As a result of practical nominative sooth-sayers of postmodern discourse,
Foucault chooses polysemical modes to repetitiously untangle anti-hegemony to
devaluate an inner struggle over posited exteriors---However, authorship is a
function practiced well when rigid guidelines are publicly treated (only in a
realm of literacy does the malfunction create a lightened up mode of
anti-bigotry. Foucault accepts author’s but admits that tributary streams lead
to a holistic generation of random nominals to verify variables in a social
norm. In other words, if a singular piece of fatalistic canon brings about
logicians that only require one mode of thought-processes, then reciprocity
commingles with workable institutions of modular reenactment, historicizing
philosophical values that work together to mitigate postulates whether they
classify origins of meaning or preferably fade into non-existence.
LX. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
Roland Barthes—From Work to Text
a. Method—the Text is experienced only in an activity of production—(modes and
phenomes to epistemologize and or to process thoughts) are won by gifted
practitioners. In short everything improves over time.
b. Genres—Behind the opines of paradoxical ‘doxa’ (opinion) a reductive collapse
of hierarchical strands reiterates the core value in a continuum of collective
artists and critics that value them
c. Signs—a work conceived, perceived and received in its integrally symbolic
nature is a given textual ‘unit’—(deactivated hostility toward misunderstood
levels of reading recreates a simplistic approach to integration.
d. Plurality—a variety of substances and perspectives: for examples—lights,
colours, vegetation, heat, air, slender explosions of noises, bird-calls,
children’s voices, passage, gestures and clothes of people (all is incidental)
e. Filiation—a determinism to reenlist support from previously denigrated adroit
readership, limited only by the physical presence of words on paper—in tangible
sense.
f. Reading—a continuing body of growing theories, groundworks, precedence and
obsolescence to reiterate preparations to gainful employment.
g. Pleasure—to judge a text, to master philosophy, to analyze inherent
value-codes, to confessor over arbitration and decoder to repracitcalize
informalities all for writing practitioners.

XLI. PAUL DE MAN—SEMIOLOGY AND RHETORIC
Essay response:
In light of an effortless act of charitable contribution, after reading DeMan
there are several courses of action that have been debunked and deproblematized
through endless analytic/ideological treatments, belying the quest of critical
grandeur is through treatments of superior practices of dezoning invaluable
words, which will not bring an end to traditional practices, it will only
stabilize friction created by political speculators, money driven experts, and
over self righteous religious nuts that thwart artistic practitioner’s from
their “far beyond driven” evaluative textual references found through-out a mess
of deliberate anti-structuralism blazing through the minds of the past to unlock
secrets of the future, in event reinvent time and space for a comfortable
position in the present.
DeMan’s position is clear that context is the value of allowing every art
maintaining a self-reflexive enhancement with its own critical approach towards
itself to blend into fashion, through and type of spectatorship or readership
imaginable. Therefore, no single canon is big enough to hold down the definitive
canon, which is without hierarchy (or ordered by individual spectators that rise
to the challenge.)



NEW UNIT (3)—READER RESPONSE
XLII. Textual Strategies
(sample)
Han’s Robert Jauss
Literary History as a Challenge to Literary Theory
“isotopy—transposed into an immanent syntagmatic horizon of expectations…in the
expansion of a semiotic system (that….[develops] and the correction of a
system.” In the arena of emptiness and with the deluge of resources equipped,
the dogmatic approach to the arts is rectified by qualifying internal
reprobation—to instill a lesson plan (for the last man or woman on Earth) of
non-hierarchical disposition, for which critics are eternally irreproachable due
to their own personal cache of uses and misuse of empirical evidence (s). In
accordance with “played-out” facsimiles and tired out mind games a, new theory
will catch the “acts” in order to eliminate strands of meta-nomers (numbered
words) to alleviate psychological pressures and unfounded disturbances (there is
a time and place for everything.) In turn, classes will experience an eclipse of
social-references as a lack of total impulsive eschatology. In defense of the
receding markets, which float off into their own encumbering and bearable
illusory qualities without returning to abnormality through a careful alliance
of multiple texts.

XLIII.
Textual Strategies
(sample)
WOLFGANG ISER
THE READING PROCESS:
A Phenomenological Approach
I-As soon as delusions of grandeur are concertable to potential fulfillment they
must be cut off to disable to the battleground of the will. (As in, a member of
a family members death, see also ‘sentence-thought’.)
II-Anticipation and Retrospection—
Be a quick thinker and thoughts will display themselves in a viewpoint of
over-hysteria, which in retrospect over-inflates the will and leads to
irresolvable hybrids.
III--Expectations revealed in sight
a. Telescopes help us see the origin of life
b. Microscopes help us see the origin of life
c. Cameras take in all the data for later display

IV—Thought Fulfillment
--adroit—dynamism of operation
--affirming—illusion-building
--art-the meaning of it all.

V—Cessation of self-alienation
Poulet, “is dependent on two conditions:
1. The life-story of the author
2. Individual status of the reader
XIV—Textual Strategies (sample)
Norman N. Holland
The question: Who reads what how?
Essay response:
There are several out-moded and out-phased approaches to the theoretical
framework of obsolescence, which reiterate functionability in a world obsessed
with madness. First, does it work to read a text by way of taking on its
problems onto oneself in order to psychoanalyze away its ethical dilemmas? Or
are there institutions to trust with your life once a rigorous thematic metaphor
is altered into life’s conscious slip-stream of totalistic values.
If a counter-hegemonic text can balance the teeter-totter of political hokum,
ethical nonsense and founded fears of death, would it be worth the risk? What is
the point among readership at which, a narrator breaks down, as well as the
reader, to the point that no one is allowed to follow along except some
monstrosity of elitist, aristocratic dung-heap ‘hung-deep’ or a half-cracked
insult artist having trouble keeping up with a workload?
To bring about lack of compromise, there is only one way out—don’t take too much
on, unless you can handle it. Whereas, the task seems simple, distractions,
illusions, hypnosis and other mind games are all ways to derail you to the point
of deadly interactions with indistinguishable textual literacy. Subjective
readership in this balancing act across a tight-rope is preferable.


LXV. TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
Stanley Fish
Interpreting the VARIORUM
I and II—the sonnet
Meter-rhythm pattern
Tone-pitch and cue
Rhyme—(sonnet mold)
To follow a sonnet pattern,
The closer you stick to a formula, the better the sonnet

RANDOM SONNET (workshop)

SYLLABLES COUNTED and COMPARATIVE RHYMING
(S) (x to y)
Lines (in roman numerals)
i.
Or my shamefulness will use up a place
S1 2 3 1 1 1 1 1(x) S=10 x=place
ii.
Sins cut like Earth, out of
S1 1 1 1 1 1(x) S=6 x=zero (no rhyme)
iii.
Tyre’s ache and quake
S1 1 1 1 (y) S=4 y=quake
iv.
With my ledge invert music to bake
S1 1 1 2 2 1 1(y + y2=quake---perfect rhyme with bake)
v.
Hidden values or pointless’ will not anul
S2 2 1 2 1 1 1 x=zero (no rhyme)
Man’s race
1 1(x+x2=place---perfect rhyme with race)

(THE SONNET MUST BE 14 LINES AS TO ADHERE TO TRADITION)

In other words
Sonnets follow patterns
Patterns are reductive
Simplicity receives complexity

Problem—If a sonnet is only mode will not poetry become a singular method and
become all too homogenized?


(TO BE CONTINUED)


(After documenting an event, disconnect and recharge the battery pack for
starters)
THE MAN WHO READ TOO MUCH (Rules)
1-Loyalty and fidelity to the text
2-Dig Deeper
3-Take a breather
4-Link all personalized webpages
5-Practice ‘Platonic’ Math
BOOK X (end-game)
If you died and could come back as just one animal, what would it be?
Example answer: A panther

Movie business quotidian:
If the profit margin is roughly $1,269,000 (i.e.)
Then the royalty percentage (per screening on an international level) should be
a cut check for $4800 for each above the line Player.
With a NET LESS ZERO


LXVI.—Textual Strategies
Judith Fetterley
(sample)
INTRO to The Resisting Reader
Essay response:
Passive resistance is a cure for all, because in silent solitude egoism drops to
all time low—in an act of tyrannical humility—forever submit your powers to
those who have already achieved and answers to life hardest questions will/won’t
come to you.
Like in a remedial BAR exam; What is Justice
Simple answer: A balancing of scales…
The heresy in over-masculinization is because of a supreme natural order that
will be detected and dissolved into egalitarianistic practices, which may pave
the way for new nature’s to take over, freedom from “hegemony” will relieve
tension from over-empowering anti-feminist cultures, unless they exist in
nature’s way.

LXVII.—TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
PETER RABINOWITZ
“In Hillel we find an erasure of war through defeated memories…to forgive and
forget is unconditional, however there are some things that are forgiven in
order to improve society, just don’t forget they happened.”
--Aaron Sheley

“If the aristocracy wins it all, everybody loses—“--J.S.

Who Is Reading?
Literacy when handled carefully comes to everyone, however, if mental
masturbation persists readers wind up in No Man’s Land—make a game out of it and
a moment of ‘clarity’ will stabilize the equation for everlasting value.
--
The Value of Authorial Reading
While it is not polite to read with authorship—a mindful reading will build
walls in every direction (metaphorical walls) always with the ability to break
them down. In an extreme liberal stance this could mean that some words were
never meant to be acquired.
--
Difficulties of Authorial Reading
However, nothing intentionalizes stimulus better than inertia (metaphor—an
oyster creating a pearl) (metaphor—an oyster creating a pearl) (metaphor—an
oyster creating a pearl) (metaphor-compressed coal creates diamonds.) What
happens when these secrets fall into the wrong hands—in a humanist perspective
there are no wrong hands (except stolen ideals)
--
Rules of Reading
1. Persistence of Intertextuality
2. Division of Intertextuality
3. Displacement of Valuelessness
4. Returning favors to the authorial inventor by pressing upon the fact that
there are more intelligent inventors, who are far more creative in the first
place.


(GO ON TO NEXT PAGE)

NEW UNIT (FOUR) PSYCHOANAYLSIS
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: A few months ago, I threw the perfect ‘rock’ concert at THE MESA
LAKES LODGE, headlining DAVID LUFF and JOSH B. featuring SHOTGUN HODOWN, and
opening with Folk Singers Kat Hunter and friends…the perfect eclectic audience
(from those invited to those that accidentally showed up) and even the FBI
showed up to ‘bounce’ the ultimate Grand Junction venue…Believe me I’m a still a
slight bit ‘hung-over’ but the only cure for this is more ‘hang-overs.’

XLVIII.
Harold Bloom—
A Meditation upon Priority

Essay response:
1.Clinamen—pro-climax without defeatism or fatalism
2. Tessera-Go as far into the text as you want as long as you are helping your
brothers and sisters
3. kenosis—Energetic stylings
4. Daemonization—Over-generalization to the point of honesty.
5. Ashesis—True admonition, security and stability with honors.
6. Apophrades—Effective practical responses to a theoretical mind-game.
XLIX. PETER BROOKS
(sample)
Levi-Strauss—
‘atemporal matrix structure’
Question: What is psychogenesis?

Answer:
Cathartic healing power combined with an overload of metonymic (or demetered
practicalities) which, transfuse into a latent dispensation of interesting
expectations.) The ethical point of solution is where willful physics and
playful metaphysics vanish—for a time.)
However, not all elements were born to mix unless authoritative masculinity
devalues its pressure-cooker of highly analyzed monstrosities of indeterminable
lore and empirical datum remains rigid for work process only—
Continuums rise and fall in this world and getting used it makes all the
difference—when good and evil return to living unified fruits of pure
labor—wisdom and age approach us all.

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
LXX. Jacques Lacan—
The Agency in the Unconscious or Reason since Freud
I. The meaning of the Letter ideogram
VOT TOC- (Greek letters for) ‘is like and as nostalgia’
Deus ex machine—is like and as
Wandering healing meets roving disillusionment
Apparatus and ethics
Invalid—to use or not to use—
II. Letter in the Unconscious
PERIPHRASIS--|DELIVERED FIGURES|
(side-view) \___catechresis (dissipation)

Hyperbaton—litotes
(kinetics) (words in quotes-litany)
Ellipsis—telescopic vision for example
Suspension—disbelief to create belief
Negation—intentionally over or undervalued.

III. The Letter, Being and The Other
LETTER-Space between art and science
(nature’s (growing
Truth) knowledge)

BEING—formative reproduction of reality
(unrealistic ideal)

Other-nonsense to bring about sensory perceptions
i.e. “I really want to get Dr. Obama re-elected, but how to create another
landslide victory?”

I shall not want / nonsense

Sacrificial—Survival
What we | for existence
Are willing
To give up

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
LXXI. JANE GALLOP
From Reading Lacan

Essay response (duly noted):
Metonymy
Functionable (symbols and signs)
Multiplied by more plural signs congruent

Example:
Because Adam and Eve ate rotten fruit, they were removed from Paradise. (maybe
they were eating from a bad root.)

Metaphor
Functionable (Signs divided by existential Signifier) (congruent to) (Signs and
signifiers)


LXXII. Bollywood is the Garden of Eden of current cinema.
Julia Kristeva—
Exegetin auton—to interpret—God/man—one evolves away from the other—
New Commandment if ideals merged:
Thou shalt not die.
Humanist—Don’t put yourself in harm’s way.
Purity comes to those who are quickest to be sorry and quickest to forgive.

“infransyntical—theme, rhetoric and subject-addressee”

Nothing changes once read and watched enough. Until it is meant to—total
singularity exists in the artistic artifact of the ages.

NEW UNTITLED UNIT FIVE

Kristeva continued…

Preface Marx critique’s capital transformation of the superstructure manifests
in conditions of production.
I-reproducible by print lithography is essential for distinguishment
II-reproduction of work—traced outline of an original
III-changes in the medium
Are the aura!
Sphere is noticeable
In variable realms
(example TV deserves to have different genre-channels for all different genres)
IV—basis in ritual recognizability. (Walter Benjamin was Here.)

V-received and valued on different planes—photography and the film are the most
serviceable exemplifications of this new function.

VI-What is the ‘cult’ value of the picture
1. Inner historical occurrences
2. Fused with an outer viewer.

VII—incomparability in means of expression (although I must admit it is a
“slow-ride” of about four hours plus…)
Ex. Abel Gance’s LA ROUE—an epic tale of a train engineer’s slow-ride through a
hard won work ethic, which leaves technological advancement in its wake and
discovers the inherent values in defending a family.

VIII- acting exists in a public sphere to be in constant pattern of textual
tests.

IX—film theory
“Did sound film change the motion picture industry?” Yes because everything had
to be re-wired.
But no, because it is all part of a Bazinian “Myth of Total Cinema”
Arnheim argues that silent film is unbeatable and will make a major comeback in
film clubs—a proven fact.

X---Are commodities fake?
No, because they constitute a fair market
Yes, because they tend to salve meta-ethical problems without transgressing the
press to set it free—in fact film works out over issues so people don’t have to;
illusion – promoting spectacles create realistic speculations.

XI---Cameramen are like painters—Mechanical equipment must be set free from
convention to become like a “Vertov”-ian MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA Kino Eye effect
(which sees all, example GOOGLE EARTH) (a flawless Soviet anti-propaganda film,
which intensifies the use of camera and montage, revealing the merge of acting
and machine—in fact, it goes down in history as the world’s greatest
experimental film—or at least among the greats…a good warmup film to watch
before shooting an ‘indy’ of your own.)

XV—Spectacles require no concentration and presupposes no intelligence. From
skillful monastic Buddha statues, paintings and artifacts when even in a Modern
aged medium of silence and craft nothing deserves to be decimated that is part
of this non-decayable art.

Epilogue—never seek to express while preserving property—although a little
politics in art go a long way.

LXXIV. Textual Strategies
(sample)
Theodor W. Adorno
‘Because books are weighted the words have already been written and read…’
From Minima Moralio
Bequest-atrophy-the reward is an absence of rewards. It is absurd to make an ego
out of an author, except to deflect other people’s insults at them.
Static—reflecting a belief in characters and events.
--
Late Extra—
Industry—a design of infrastructure that develops commerce and recreation
SEXUALITY—a healthy attitude to have in life—to be suppressed only into
politeness
Illusion—a much needed collision course with other peoples sins against each
other, to relieve our own.

LXXV. Textual Strategies
(sample)
Georg Luckacs
Essay response:
In a schooling competition of driven hunger for an end to social pollutants and
mish-mashes of common decency the quickest way our is non-conformity. In fact,
theoreticians are waiting for the day when other critics unravel mysteries of
lives through a growing body of energetic responses, that will instigate a
leveler in part to unredeemed the redeemable. Mixing and matching patterns and
waves of amusement does not impact society negatively (and even if it does, the
careless ones will be left picking up the pieces of harmful mental
characteristics even if thoughts are not monitored by a new brand of oppressive
“psychotherapy.” What then is the solution—laughter, fun and a quicksand of
mild-mannered thoughts impair our vision for a longer ride through the land of
critic-mania.
Then again, he who shoulders the burden for the entire gangs misery, depression
and manias finish first (however, declining a treasure trove of awards will only
heighten the awareness of accolades.)

LXVI. Textual Strategies (sample)
General Mode of Production (Terry Eagleton)
Historical and economical
For instance-one-liner
“Do as I say, not as I do,” –a Drew Casper-“ism” (a catch for all)

A four-liner
“steer your ships to the
Strait of Gibraltar
Unless your Name
Happens to be Walter.”
(Aaron Sheley)

I’ll do you one better (for a piece of rare crystalline found in the Seattle
hills and mailed to Herb Farmer without human error involved…for example.)
If it is diluted
And culturally polluted
Send us your artworks
And will return in ‘yardworks.’
(all of the above are over-generalizations)
ii. Literary Mode of Production
Unity of certain forces
And social formation
Is there a metaphysical
Approach to this eternal statement
“I think therefore I kill?”
Confessions to High School, Undergraduate Schools and Graduate Schools are
piling in all around us—to PHS, USC and CIA respectively…
Independence
Believability jouissance (French for joy and spirit)
Intelligence
Sameness

MATH TIME with number crunching economic paper slips

Take an average salary of $1,269,000 a year in a bank account of choice
(preferably American) with $4800 tax deductable acts of weekend charities
(weddings or funerals, for instances)…
With an annual profit net worth gain of 7% annual increasing interest compounded
to the nearest faction 3.5/50 is equal to 1,269,000 divided by .07 percent,
which totals out to be $88,830 (like the amount of damage I’ve done to vehicles
over the years) but saved by insurance, this is taxed out to a 2/3 payback the
next year (an equal amount of $6,215 which when subtracted by the 88,830 taxable
limit, $82,615 appears, or when deducted from the original $1,2690,000 is a sum
of all total parts, a remaining income of aprox. $287,555. (Done)

The scarab beetle what rode my bus-about made us pause for the cause of the Oz.
Movie Review by Aaron S. (First Review ever published in his career, in The
Desert Rose: An Oasis Clubhouse Newsletter in August 2006 dedicated to JOJI, a
keeper of knowledge.)
“PAGE Four) -- THE WIZARD OF OZ
Of all the greatest fantasy films none rival the great musical Oz. Victor
Fleming is on the helm and Judy Garland in the lead.

The film is satirical toward political and philosophical viewpoints. On a whim,
colors explode vibrantly onto the screen when Dorothy’s house magic carpet rides
on a tornado toward Oz landing on a witch and setting off a chain reaction of
all things including a witch and a wizard needed to get Dorothy back to Kansas.

The three characters she picks up dance along to their edge and this reviewer
sees the scarecrow as religion in need of mind, the tin man as technology in
need of emotion and the lion as politics in need of backbone.

The characters dance and frolic to music that also works if a viewer were to
play Pink Floyd’s DARK SIDE OF THE MOON simultaneously with Oz’s imagery to keep
the rumor of their matching beats going strong.

Oz develops a wicked witch plot in Act II that gives her a full slew of
opportunities to gale about, shrieking with laughter until the water element
flattens her. Now Dorothy has killed two witches, one for each ruby slipper.

It isn’t any wonder Salman Roditre *sic (supposed to be ‘Rushdie.’) wrote the
BFI classic book about Oz. The film is Frank Baum inspired, charged by silent
short fantasies like the pre-sound era silent “Oz-Worlds.”

Believe in the wonder and get lost in the fantasy of the rainbow.”

--For Rushdie (and him alone)…(for telluride 2001 film fest)

(TO BE CONTINUED)

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (resumed)
iii.) (Eagleton)
LXXXVI—
(76)-Relations between literary and General The Literary refines functions in
reproduction and expansion to find a way into mad-generalizations. Or is there a
non-hostile approach to “subordination” or submitting to the powers that be—yet
many of the Marxists are only out to make a quick buck these days.

iv. General Ideology
vs.
Aesthetic Ideology—
Question: What is the purpose of analysis without an idealist type of
generalized hypothetical ideology?

v. General Ideology meets Literature—How can mix these elements that don’t
always mix—by tying the unmixable up into cues, tests and equilibriums that
stabilize economic art no matter what its principles established

vi. Authorial Ideology
general productions of expressions of ideology (characteristics and modes)

vii. Aesthetic Ideology—
“levels” of “ideological culture”…In most societies right-wingers promote
victimizing hegemony and left-wingers promote counter-hegemony. Marx exists to
level the playing field.

viii.—Further relations—
With product placement, different visualizations of undervalued products and
practitioners of the art

ix. histories of ideologies smooth things over to level up and be part of the
next generators of words and craftsmanship.

x. literary texts are overdetermined, however, there are tributary streams that
lead to mind expansion (LSD or DMT acids to fly high with, for example…warning:
do not try this at home) and if only we disengage from materialism will the word
games begin—however, is there even a place for socialism in communism?

Cinema Bible: GENESIS and EXODUS
BIRTH AT THE GATES
Analytics in Media Exposed (From Birth of a Nation to Within Our Gates: AMERICAN
FILM FROM 1915 to 1919)
(For Dr. Polan and Mary Anne Doane---Required Reading for the Todd Boydian Camp
of Politics w/Drew Casperian reservations)

While there are advantages to a code of ethics, such codes are becoming
meaningless. However, there remains question as to whether censorship exists in
any form when creative machinations come to play. Stories abound in cinema
primarily of initiative responses of creative differences involving lucrative
bankers. In a way Christianity (or its modern incarnations) split upon decisions
that controlled the early days of film. Consider that BIRTH OF A NATION created
contemporary censorship and marketing strategies simultaneously in every sense,
True, there are countless masterpieces early silent era (roughly 1895-1915) or
pre-BIRTH understandings of filmmaking. Yet, D.W. Griffith came into the scene
after the Lumiere’s released the world’s first movies, albeit short-films. Thus
film had been around for exactly twenty years when BIRTH OF A NATION reared its
ugly head. Thus the act of censorship cannot repress the view that when
maximization of creative freedom is extolled, the artistry itself becomes
freedom.
So, how does BIRTH fit into the scheme of censorship? Considering its popular
response, there are thoughts of its extreme example of racism merely reflecting
the attitudes and beliefs at the hour. Still, post-BIRTH censorship became
hellishly nightmarish until the mid to late 1960’s. This time reversed by banks
and churches evolve to evolving pop culture.
In unique ways, Hollywood production, has found ways to counteract censorship by
waving money around to pay off their detractors. In a roundabout logic, this
means detractors have risen in certain underground cases, where they posit
themselves as censors—for the same reason “real” censors—for the same reason
“real” censors are motivated—to work with whomever has the most money.
With the case of Griffith, there is no doubt that several times in his career,
he was wealthy beyond all other media giants. However, as is well known with
Griffith no two stories—like his films—are alike. His penchant for
fictionalizing his accounts of his life-story is quite ridiculous.
For example, Griffith espoused his egalitarian views all around the conceptions
of racially charged works.
While there is confirmation that his father was a legendary soldier in how well
Griffith knew his father was a legendary soldier in the actual Civil
War—fighting for the South—how well Griffith knew his father’s story is sketchy
to say the least.
The point is, Griffith denied on several occasions that he was racist—while by
today’s standards he defines the word. At least, for the most part anyway,
because when the facts all add up, no one can judge whether the man was
intentionally racist or accidentally calamitous concerning culture. The facts
will all to play, but for now note only that there is a large amount of
discrepancy in the matters of BIRTH OF A NATION being pro or anti-racist, though
it no doubt leans to the former, while not completely embracing a totalitarian
stance.
Yet, there is more danger in an outright boycott of a piece of racist history
than the dangers of the existence of such forms of media. So often history has a
way of being forgotten because of censorship. If the ardent attackers of BIRTH
OF A NATION have their way to ban the film for its ideological content there is
a chance that the lesson of racism exuded by the film would be so far out of
memory that the whole event reoccurs with devastating consequences.
Admittedly, there are numbers of strange stories surrounding the audience
reception, which were caustic in and of themselves. As the ‘Klansmen’ were
portrayed as saviors of the South, actual Klansmen in reality had a renaissance
of lynching sprees. Not to downplay the severity of these atrocities, the
argument against copycat crimes having derived causality from a film, is that,
behaviors in films catch on in reality. So, too, does reality influence film, a
delicate symbiosis.
Another important detail about BIRTH OF A NATION, to shift the focus from its
innate controversy, is that the film many contemporary audiences, as per say,
the spectatorial challenge of the sound/color 1939 film THE WIZARD of OZ
is—despite its decreasing popularity—quite frankly, the world’s greatest film of
all time. Of course, that opinion is more subjective than objective. Still
consider that Griffith’s films are all typically masterpieces—JUDITH OF BETHULIA
is the longest existing first masterpiece of Griffith that is not necessarily a
short film and THE STRUGGLE is his final full length masterpiece…a sound film,
no less) his greatest achievement BIRTH OF A NATION, is not the first feature
film by any means. Scores of silent feature masterpieces existed and still do
(check out the recent silent film craze going down on YOUTUBE, for example.) And
the short films were just as good as any others anyway. (Jean Douchet writes of
Griffith in his FRENCH NEW WAVE book, “He had a stupefying ability to create a
canvas out of everything he filmed…to make the frame dynamically responsible for
all the movements in the film (in particular, human emotions) to cut up spatial
unity through editing into multiple fragments and then reunite them again
(Douchet, pg. 58.)
Thus it stands to reason that BIRTH’s attributes of being some kind of first
feature the world has ever seen is provably inaccurate. A nomenclature
adjustment is necessitated. Birth, is an invention of a film style that is still
used. Interestingly, that exists now in cinema comes from BIRTH OF A NATION.
Tracking shots, close-ups, cross-cutting, detailed mise-en-scene and other modes
of representation can already be found in scores of other, earlier shorts and
features. However, if an agreement is possible on the inexact science of what
film first used style as technique as well as, a definitive guide to actual film
language than a few would argue that Griffith’s BIRTH is a the model example…
In any event the theoretical form inhabited in the original genesis of stylistic
modes of representation is all from the breakthrough film by Griffith. In other
words he detested all bounds of his contemporaries (which are now way in the
past) by advancing the medium. However, there are consequences to the decision
to advance style while discovering a wholly problematic paradigm.
Once the facts are in, there is no question that BIRTH is of intent out to
offend. Or is it? The question remains due to Griffith’s lack of admission to
racism, his ultimate viewpoint on the earlier and later films that outright
squelched all notions of racism that something is underneath the motives of
Birth that were impure to audiences of 1915 despite their objections.
At any rate, the central discussion put to task leads to separation of advanced
film language and the intensification of a well known taboo in ideology. As
mentioned, several arguments pile up that the film was only reflective of the
popular voice, yet there are exactly so many voices, it is hard to take care of
all agendas at once. And there is also a chance that the film exacerbated a
number of indescribable acts—which results in a confusion when approaching the
film as a whole.
Set aside for a moment the uproar at the very mention of an older movie with
such power. In actuality, the film itself contains an intertitle which warns
that nothing is representative of a current race. How in actuality does the
intertitle which warns that nothing is representative of a current race. How in
actuality does the intertitle even come about when all throughout the film
racism is obtrusive? Once again, sees ideology infringe on the value of a film.
In effect, there are audiences that seek out ‘shock’ and ‘exploitation.’ Thus,
BIRTH is easily recontextualized as a frightful nightmare to relive an
experience to be never duplicated elsewhere. For the sake of shock value, in a
modern context, none rival Griffith’s intense foray of an almost unconstrained
madness.
Again, what if the morose reality of an uninhibited ruling class dominated all
other classes in discussion?
Governing bodies of interest have no business at censorship levels, necessarily.
But how far can the artist push the boundaries of a medium before he is
blacklisted forever. However, among his final works, he was still apologizing
for his earlier mistakes.
A limited few with properties of hindsight and control over an image will be in
a state of disavowal or in detachment involving oppositional readings.
In comparison critics and audiences alike remain harsh toward problematic
ideology. However, THE BIRTH OF A NATION has many more layers of meaning than
any other film in existence. This explains the laudatory and also angry voices
at a film that almost promotes fascism—albeit as a last resort against chaos.
Perhaps that clause is too tidy for a film that while maintaining all sorts of
stereotypes also presents a liberating view toward the very film it either
intentionally or unintentionally oppresses. It is not accidental that a singular
race of Africans…
webmaster@mentalhealthamerica.net.
…no longer need to focus only on race unless it bothers them in an unsettling
way.



Then again, there are virtually two halves to the film, as already in
constructed here; the first half illustrates the pre-civil war and the war
itself, and the second half is the real racist but about an African takeover of
the South and then their extinguishment by the Klan. The two-halves not only fit
together symbiotically but if the first parts display a day of racism—the second
part is nothing but.
Interestingly, in a recent montage on Turner Classic Movies of the Greatest
American Films as they proceed through history BIRTH OF A NATION is among the
first to be honored. And the scene on display is of a scene on display is of a
civil war battle by which the protagonist crosses enemy lines and shoves a
confederate flag into the cannon. Scenes of the like reveal the David Bordwell
point of view on Birth because the film exploited the new medium’s unique
resources.” (Bordwell, A HISTORY OF FILM STYLE)

Perhaps there is an amount of truth in the film concerning how the Southern
ideals and forces were suppressed by the Northern. What truth remains, in spite
of the point of view on BIRTH the film, the whole thing claims no parallels they
“like” other masterworks triumphed because…to any culture, while with a
double-standard as there are constant “facsimile as supposed. In fact,
biographer Richard Schickel explains in D.W. GRIFFITH: AN AMERICAN LIFE that
concerning the aftermath of the Civil War “Griffith should have known better.”
The basis of the ‘ecstasy induced chemical romance’ of these early book pages
Griffith’s racial issues is so convolutes that it is hard to sort out. For
example, he claimed not to be a racist, which could be a racist lie—however,
when one lie is involved several others could follow suit. However, perhaps this
is just a hypothetical trail of logic intentionally shocking for the sake of
controversy. Of course, the controversy goes on. (When rape and pillaging of
culture is allowed, then the people of a nation turn on each other and point the
blaming fingers on everyone but themselves, or the exact source of year’s worth
of trouble.)
The plot of the film, like the narrative is serpentine, labyrinth and cyclical.
Present is a ‘requiem’ for a lost remnant of culture, CAMELOT—esque in
romanticism, full of an illusory dream transcends an illusory dream transcends
reality by pushing the envelope in style and content.
Without a doubt, its problems are almost superseded by the experimentation.
In fact, all films post-BIRTH have a style, to avoid generality, that is similar
to the signs and signifiers, (for instance in Haxan terminology, even the Baal’s
blood of a Molochian Asura would not allow me to harm any witches---it is a
Seattle thing,) have a style, to avoid generality, that is similar to the signs
and signifiers and mise-en-scene/montage aesthetics of BIRTH.
To marvel at the dark circus of technical achievement alone is to appreciate the
broad canvas and narrow strokes of an artist’s paintbrush, which encapsulates a
character study and a philosophy of war.
On a side note, if BIRTH was an isolated circumnavigation of racial phenoms,
then it would be particularly, difficult to understand how such a film presents
dreadful racism. Yet, of all the films surviving in the silent film canon,
(restored and yet to be restored films being all that counted as evidence, for
the most part) as evidence, for the most part) rarely appear as equality amongst
races. Oscar Micheaux films have survived and his works such as WITHIN OUR GATES
and BODY AND SOUL...


..Clearly emphasize thematic that exonerate African-Americans as humanistic,
equal to other races and deriving to be set free from oppression and
victimization. Yet this, is a marginal voice (albeit, currently building
momentum in film history) even if other lost silent films are racially charged
for better or for worse. Ultimately, the sound era even to present times is
littered with overbearing racism—often hidden as a joke or an accepted
stereotype in the guise of an archetype. From GONE WITH THE WIND to the
GODFATHER racism loosely defeats its uglier form, over the obvious racial hatred
of BIRTH OF A NATION, which is to say that now in film, racism exists and no one
ever admits it is racism due to the catch for a “political correct” argument
that parades hate as an act of freedom. While disconnecting from a fear if
collectivism, the individual is still responsible ethically for inflicting harm
from one person to another, in humanistic terms. BIRTH is a horrific analogy of
harm inflicted, but as written here, the film embodies a last ditch effort to
defend an utopia of Southern ideals militantly influencing violence as both an
evil destruction of the South, then evolving the same violence into the last
ditch effort of protection discussed earlier.
However, it is purely on the anti-censorship that the film deserves a place in
history, because any form of censorship no matter how small, leads directly to
other forms of censorship.
In fact, when groups like the NAACP promoted a ban on BIRTH (justifiably so),
the situation marked a turning point in film censorship where no longer could a
race be depicted as evil based on race alone, which interestingly lead to hidden
racism—while also taking on a double-standard by, for instance, the board of
pearly Hollywood film censors boycotting films—even in the script phase---that
portrayed the uprising, Nazi party as evil. Ironic considering that Nazis
promote racism, yet it was hypocritically justified to allow them to, based on
BIRTH’s repugnant images of racial hand-me-down codes. Yet the essential
difference is that the Germans should never be lumped into an ‘all in it in
together’ of the same category, it is hardly profiling to depict a Nazi (which
is a political party, not a race) as anti-Semitic. Wither the whole plot to keep
Nazi evil out of films did come from BIRTH, or there may have been a financial
excuse to remain true to white people, as the rule obviously never applied to
African-Americans, yet. This implies that it now does.
Of course, the impetus for film appreciation rests on the shoulders of aesthetic
considerations long before the politics of ideology enter the picture. Is it a
crime to celebrate a film like BIRTH OF A NATION? Why must a spectator feel
guilty for their choice of what they consider to be a well made movie? On top of
the pressure to do away with Griffith and his oeuvre (although hardly any of his
other films have racist problems—as hinted at, the others are quite progressive,
some apologetical, some with a brilliant prescience due to his out of control
nature the world’s most heinous hate crime—there is also the problem with silent
films losing more and more popularity in the age of digital reproduction (save
for the safety of Internet Archives, and digital shopping, which makes
acquisitions of silent features a simple transaction.)

Consider the lost films of Griffith alone that have disintegrated into a
vinegary powder of production stills and notes that can be accessed only by the
most ardent research to piece together the trail of the world’s most important
artifacts—would otherwise---if still extant—illuminate film history. Many have
stated how much further advancements could have been had the ancient Library of
Alexandria never burned. Yet, as there, were business considerations impeding
the crucial time of necessitation of restoration of early film there were very
few (supposedly) that understood the importance of sustaining the early silent
films at all. And is this loss as great (if not greater) as (or than) the loss
of an ancient library?
In conjunction with an interest in preserving history what if, for instance, all
of the films we cherish and respect in contemporary films being from the last
ten years started disappearing. The medium has changed to a durable form but
independent films could be completely forgotten; by the sheer fact that film’s
have no audience. Connected to this line of reasoning is Griffith’s
independently thinking mind (while collaborating with hundreds of people in his
process) is prevalent in his move to form the studio United Artists with
Chaplin, Fairbanks and Pickford.
The under-researched “gospel” so to speak, of Young Griffith’s life from a
farmhound to a stage actor and then, a career in film that was full of new ideas
for modern technique. There are agreeing reports that document Griffith’s
experimental experience as a stage actor is what enlivened his idea to get into
film. Just by repeatedly using his stock company of film actors in his
films—particularly Lillian Gish—he also managed to shape everything acting-wise
in the entire following cinema.
Thus, Griffith is not only the best director but also the most important
developer of film grammar. If he knew BIRTH was racist, he may have made it
anyway to prove he could do anything he wanted. His attitude to do exactly what
was in his artistic mind without compromises is what supposedly burned his name
into the “blacklist,” in his later career.
As the general education of teachers that use films in lectures, there should be
a consensus on the old wide-spread fact that D.W. Griffith conquered the film
medium beyond the level of any other artist.
Typically, almost all schools of have abandoned Griffith temporarily—because as
found on the flipside of political correctness—there are very few that believe
artistic merit can also carry with it malicious intent of racism.
Whatever arguments pile up against Griffith, the only way into his cinema
secrets is to deconstruct him entirely—a structuralist/post-structuralist
agenda, to say the least.
To take apart the “assassination of Lincoln” sequence alone delves into a shot
by shot analysis, which is of extreme value. At some point, an entire shot by
shot guide to BIRTH should be considered as an exercise not to be avoided. The
entire Soviet Montage formalist camp of the 1920’s spent quite a bit of time
reediting prints of BIRTH and INTOLERANCE when there was no money to do anything
else.
The first title card seen in BIRTH explains that Griffith is producer of the
film—the second tithe virtually establishes the letters “D.G.” as an explicit
trademark to remind the audience that Griffith is in control.

The strange opening titles begin to denote that there is a program that goes
along with the film and then story written by Griffith and Frank E. Woods
appears above the “photography” credit which goes to the equally accountable
G.W. Bitzer (a Griffith favorite)—
The film immediately confronts the issue of censorship that concludes (still in
the midst of the opening intertitles) “—the same liberty that is conceded to the
art of the written word—it is given to artists of any medium. Interestingly, the
art of the motion picture is akin to another art form—in this akin to another
art form—in this case literature (ironic as the play the movie is based on “The
Clansman” is reported to be a medium-well written play) is used to justify the
nearly twenty year old medium of film. Anyway, after the anti-censorship message
is literally the first time that the film’s title is unveiled—THE BIRTH OF A
NATION, which is titled in a shapely font and underlined, baring little
resemblance in title to “The Clansman” but the book is credited as well on the
title page.
Once the titles continue with yet another disclaimer which illustrates that
another disclaimer which illustrates that the film put an end to war, already
the over-ambitious Griffith is revealed... The final opening title card claims
disunion in America (as strange as this may seem for an opening line) was when
Africans were brought into the country. Finally, the first images or the actual
footage display the pathways of Slavery of the African, ambiguity enters the
film almost as soon as the film begins, in depiction of the Northern states
corruption as in control of the evil side of slavery. Although the next couple
of shots are of the
“abolitionists” arguing to free the slaves—it is quite possibly due to the slave
liberation that they tend to seize control of the states—a message conveyed all
throughout the film in subtext. Although, in a roundabout way, toward the film’s
ending, the North and South unite due to the KKK, a nasty thought in today’s
progressive views.
After a few more shots of a court appeal for black people’s freedom, one of the
many protagonists of the film, Austin Stoneman is introduced along with daughter
Elsie (Lillian Gish in the greatest of the all time ‘true’ screen performances.)
They are upper class Northern aristocrats’ upper echelons of political power and
are responsible later for the entire downfall of the South by promoting the
freeing of the slaves. They learn the error of their ways as crazy as that
sounds.
Elsie wipes the sweat from her father’s head, and the whole scene is quite
bourgeoisie. As the film has a tendency to do, it cuts in closer to a medium
close-up (already used in a previous shot to highlight a young and innocent
slave) establishing the precious relationship that becomes a catalyst to the
film.
The Northern life pre-war is an utopian ideal. Two Elsie’s brothers hang out
leisurely reading in the foreground right of the frame, which the estate they
live at is to the left in an angle not commonly used in film to establish
magnificence, although the angle definitively gets the point across.
Cutaway to the letter; the brother’s read to explain an upcoming visit with
Southern friends (later revealed as the Cameron’s—who are in many ways modeled
after the characters in Griffith’s ancestry.)
In a slight pan to the right, to simply reveal the large hedge that frames the
familial brothers, a moment of interesting Griffithian power is at hand. Someone
is behind a blanket that drapes over the outside door to the porch; only if it
is not certain, yet, that a female is veiled in the gap underneath the blanket.
The Cameron brothers continue to gaze at a letter. And under the blanket are the
lady’s occupied, oddly shifting to different spots under the curtain—after the
brother notices her, he calls out and cut to her opening the curtain. It is a
nice looking Gish who emerges, holding the cat. Supposedly, the entire script
existed in Griffith’s mind. This scene directly gives evidence to that and after
a few more cuts, of Gish viewed from different angles, she approaches in the
character of Elsie conversing with her brothers. Something occurs (most likely
the understanding of the future visitors that propels all three on-screen
characters into the background and back into the house.
The title announces next, “In the Southland.” This statement is revealing
Piedmont (or will be revealing) (the city mentioned in the letter the brother’s
read) as the locale—The Cameron's homestead is also, in the Introduction shot, a
bourgeoisie setting. However, it has more of a rural touch, whereas the Stoneman
family were like urban—these stereotypes are often linked to big budget features
that often feature pre-war North and South, which in a way subconsciously takes
account that there were already divisions between the two—At any rate men and
women are boarding and unloading a horse pulled buggy and there is much to be
examined when it comes to the sheer number of horses in the film, particularly
during the final Klan ride (later discussed), which propagandizes the number of
actual men from the South that became Klansmen (post-civil war). There is a
legend floating around that John Ford was shrouded in Klan gear for that shot in
particular.
Next in order of this exposition sequence, is shot from behind a fence, spliced
with the carriage taking off from behind, a shot that will be remodeled much
later in the film. A slave spanks his boy, which in a strategic way humanizes
the Africans of the Southern hierarchy although were slaves. In the film, there
are several instances in which the slaves that are devoted to their masters play
a crucial role in the lives of white people they serve. In a way, this brings
the issue of racism to a stand-off between what Spike Lee and Malcolm X have
espoused to be the difference between ‘house slaves’ and rebellious ‘field
slaves’ who wreaks havoc in the white people upon their emancipation (in the
film, anyway.)
More than once are the Africans of the South, shown to be the good side of the
blacks. Whether or not any non-racist ideas can be derived from the fair
treatment of Southern African-American is still up for grabs. From the front of
the wagon a slave drives a coach and another is parked coach is coach and
another parked coach is moved in on closely in a cut and the intertitle reveals
the name of the other female protagonist—Margaret Cameron (Griffith’s titles
describe her as from “the old school,”) She is inside a large parlor room in
which the interior shot of the studio set is a mise-en-scene that creates an
illusion of off-screen space. The shot itself in the interior of the Cameron’s
house is used often enough throughout
Whereas I have not done enough research on the original music score of Birth,
the David Shephard restored image Entertainment paper-back cover DVD is the
preferable version, at least within this reader’s context, and the music fits it
loosely…as though amidst a near orchestral score. Whatever orchestral score was
actually used for the opening night of the film, the Cameron’s stairwell main
foyer or entrance hall most likely had its own leit-motif, s the characters
shared them as well.
In an outside scene at the Cameron’s in an outside scene at the Cameron’s the
mother of the family and her young daughter sits across from the father of the
family and as matched on action from a previous shot, the man of the family
enters, kisses his mother on the cheek (as his little sister runs around
reacting to Cameron’s father is moved in on as he speaks to his son. So far in
the case of the Northern and Southern families introduced they are quite
functional domestication among families. Everything happens logically.
The camera tracks down to the eldest Cameron’s feet to see puppies playing
together. Next the young girl hugs her older brother as the house slave watches
from behind. The puppies are seen again in close-up, quickly intercut is the
inner sanctum, which draws attention at most times to the stairwell. Almost as
though she can sense it, the older daughter of the Cameron’s reacts to thin air,
a trait common among Griffith actors that are, as always, fraught with emotion.
From off-screen the eldest Cameron’s hand enters frame and places a kitten onto
the puppies—and during this crosscut action a title simply reads: Hostilities.
Meanwhile, the cat claws at t the puppies. There is no giant leap in logic to
arrive at the conclusion that this is a heavy gesture to allude to the necessary
segregation of black and white in Griffith’s view.
In the next shot all of the children of the Cameron’s gather at the doorway
around a letter, which also turns out to read earlier concerning the visitation
of Northern and Southern friends—separated by a small space of geography.
And so the Stoneman brother arrive to visit the Cameron’s as it turns out they
stated and Ben Cameron in their letter—They arrive, in fact, in a horse drawn
carriage riding to mid-ground outside the walkway and gate to the Cameron
plantation. The Cameron’s wait patiently on their porch, and the Stoneman
brothers approach the family hands outreaching to shake The Northerners are
introduced to the southerners as friends, all behaving jovially in each other’s
presence. The friends and family enter the estate passing behind the large white
palatial columns on the porch back in the main interior—tinted with just the
right color to illustrate the lighting. Take note that color tinting throughout
is, in fact, all motivated by what would be thought as the color most picked up
by natural light—all to instigate a totality of realism.
Still outside are Cameron’s older daughter and the Stoneman’s older son, taking
interest in each other as friends. In the same shot, the lady’s brother emerges
from the background to interrupt the appearance of affection between the couple.
They all turn and head inside, smoothly matched on action in the next shot of
the interior main area of the Cameron’s house, which from here on will be
referred to as a ‘Stairwell Room.’ As the Cameron parents smile and greet those
that enter the room, outside, the two youngest brothers of each family are shown
as the intertitle reads, as “Chums.” They exchange in a friendly game that leads
to a mock chase. Crosscut this with the Stairwell Room with the various people
in different planes of the background. And then back to the youngest brothers
playfully dodging each other’s chase, eventually getting chastised for their
mock battling. Several cuts go by in the next thirty seconds (a little over ten
minutes into the film) that establish the inside of the Southern estate as a
peaceful, happy existence in a veritable calm before the storm.
As the introduction fuses into further plot development—an intertitle sets up
the dynamic group of protagonists in factually designed scenarios, uncanny in
resemblance to civil war folk-lore. The young Cameron’s sojourn through the
cotton fields for a moment—then a line of sight match pictures a love interest
(completely in beginning stages, but with assured follow through, developing
between the oldest Cameron girl and oldest Stoneman boy. Fade in on another
picturesque locale, the seaside, of ellipsis, here Griffith dispatches the use
of ellipsis or ‘folded edges’ to make a frame within a frame. The use of
ellipsis is so common with Griffith and interestingly hardly ever used
anymore—though it would be a clever device even now. Silent imagery, quite often
in a painterly fashion, which is why they are so stylish and advanced.

Again, there is a debate about a primitive mode of representation (Noel Burch’s
PMR), and while Giusseppe de Liguero’s L’INFERNO, in 1911, a full length feature
recently rediscovered, premastered and re-released on digital video appears
immaculate in aesthetics—yet a true example of primitivism—Griffith’s BIRTH
merges the modern and classical styles; which turns the whole film into a
textbook of film form, an institutional mode of representation—
Also, the actual distinction between silent and sound film is the absence of
audible dialog in a silent feature and the absence of intertitles in a sound
film—naturally. However, telling a story in pure visuals purifies the media to
an enhanced image. This is to say that at the point of the first seaside shot in
BIRTH the ellipsis frame features the shot with a faded circle around the edges.

A few seconds later two female slaves and pick cotton in a large surreal cotton
field. Among the oddest of the problems with Birth is that hardly any
African-Americans were used in the actual shoot—or at, at least, the story goes
that many of the actors were white people in black-face playing the role of
African people. The sheer images of the scene, in which the cotton is picked,
reflects back to the ironic coldness, in which the heightened reality of slavery
is glamorized to the point of redundancy.
The falsities of this “true” story (later in way claiming to be truth) abound,
although the fermentation of “poetic truth” in an Aristotelian sense is
beginning to take hold. The Cameron’s enter the frame—right after a shot of a
close-up of a slave’s hand picking cotton—a shot to rival all others—in front of
the slaves, taking advantage of their privileged space in the field—an
establishmentarianistic capitalistic leisurely class emerges. Inserts in the
“cotton field” sequence culminate to the insert (a rather Feuillade-esque
device) of a picture Elsie Stoneman Griffith intercuts Gish’s character in photo
freeze frames the action at once and all together. The Cameron boy keeps the
picture of Elsie for himself and all the white people exit the frame,
repositioning the slaves in another pleasing shot. G.W. Bitzer must have taken
approach, because the shot is in the slave quarters of the plantation and slaves
couldn’t be happier at this stage. Notice that the Cameron boy shakes hands with
an African slave, whereas later he refuses to shake hands with a mulatto with
political status. The mystery behind the sinister Northern plot will be revealed
as a matter based in simple economic dominance of the United States. For now,
the slaves are shown to be enjoying white masters. In a longer take, the slaves
dance to entertain themselves and others.



Emerging is a pattern of shots that mimic each other--an establishing shot, which eventually includes characters, an intercut, which highlights characters
and then back to the establishing shot. Alfred Hitchcock used this technique as well, objective in establishment and subjective in a close-up point of view shot.

In other words, the index of reference to a shot within a shot is completely ascertained by Griffith. Another fact that resonates strongly with Griffith is how huge of an inspiration his films were
on other filmmakers, from Charlie Chaplin and Erich von Stroheim to Robert Bresson and Robert Altman--undoubtedly an aesthetic all its own, rife with a personal touch. Yet, BIRTH is atypically recognized, as here
as Griffith's most important work. Because BROKEN BLOSSOMS, INTOLERANCE and WAY DOWN EAST are all almost equally as good and as are in constant flux of critical reorganization by critics.
To name the key works thus far restored, look no further than JUDITH OF BETHULIA, HEARTS OF THE WORLD, SALLY OF THE SAWDUST and TRUE HEART SUSIE. To round off the top ten AVENGING CONSCIENCE and AMERICA are the two most unforgettable
that always need inclusion. As for the short films, well, he never made a bad short--the earliest short is THE ADVENTURES OF DOLLIE an animal movie, picturing a dog. Again, JUSDITH OF BETHULIA (based on an apocryphal text of Biblical lore) marks the
turning point from short too long. Even the two part ENOCH ARDEN does not stretch as long, but endures, like most of his shorts, as masterpieces.
BIRTH shows a clash of racism in the early days of a forming civil war, all coming to a close with the end of the frontier in 1895, transfiguring itself onto cinema--BIRTH is not too far from similar parameters.
As the slaves dance, the white folk enjoy the company of their slaves for a short while.
Soon after, it is noteworthy to bring up the new headline Griffith plays on, "If the North carries the election, the south will secede the Cameron senior points out the article, which is as controversial as anything now as when the film was
released, back unto the 1865 scenario, when the war was on a somewhat decrescendo of technique. Remember the film delves far into the aftermath of the war.
Next, Father Austin Stoneman is viewed in his 'secret' library. The library shot is rarely examined, but it is worth note that again, the composition is a major breakthrough in the structure of time and apace---Rich Northern men discuss rich northern theories,
which then cuts to one of the most interesting scenes of the film entire. Lydia Brown is a housekeeper (and later hinted at as a lover) of Austin Stoneman. All entirely in silent film fashion, she gives a Brecthian pantomime, in a long take she is intercut with Austin
in the library. Actually, by the time the film cuts back to her--the second time--she tries to a make a move on a politician---who condescends to her. She then acts out even more pantomime to illustrate her disgust of white people. As she practically goes into convulsions--tearing her
clothes and falling to the ground in agony.
Switch back to the library--Austin gathers material--rapid cross cut to the housekeeper making motions in dementedly lurid ways.
One of the most unconvincing title cards of the movie appears soon after, reading, "The great leader's weakness that is to blight a nation." Here Griffith takes the moral high-ground of right and left wingers alike, that pointed out the out-of-date memories
of the evils of miscegenation is somehow still evil. Austin walks in on his maid and as she cries to him, he consoles her.
In the next scene--the two brothers, identified as chums, agree to meet each other again, which will, as seen, be entirely different circumstances then what they would expect. The oldest Stoneman vows to stay true to the older Cameron girl forever.
Then, they all part ways and go back about business, which relates to the later film by Renoir (GRAND ILLUSION,) in its distinct intentional contradictions. A horse buggy takes the Stonemans home and among the last to leave the reverse Point of View shot the Cameron
Lady, transfixed on her lover to be--foreshadowing to the maximum. (Note by Joel Newton: Abraham Lincoln is ready to sign a proclamation, and Lincoln's gesture is true to form, known to act like this throughout history. As the politicians leave the room, Abe Lincoln reflects on
the actions he has just taken.) The scene with Lincoln calling for troops or volunteers is another "facsimile" with cited source on the intertitle. (Griffith cites Nicolay and Hay in "Lincoln a History," as Lincoln's actions come to fruition.)
And so, the Stoneman brothers are off to fight the war for the North. Gish's Elsie pretends to be excited and hopeful for her brothers. She looks at them dressed in their uniforms and sends them out with affection and physical touch--In the well structured scene,
the older brother leaves the frame to appear in the next cut, (match on movement) and he bounds over a hedge and then looks back and in the next cut his POV reveals Elsie and her younger brother. Then the cuts gently transition between Elsie and her younger brother. Then the cuts gently
transition between Elsie and her departing brothers by way of more POVs and matching on action. Gish's Elsie continues to play along with her brother, pretending to be proud of his war efforts. But a moment after her brothers leave, the reality sinks in and she panics and bursts into
tears, falling down in fear. As the fade out eclipses the scene, classical Hollywood editing is from this point on, completely established. The film, so far, is linear, seamless montage, lavish mise-en-scene and experimental style that lays the ground rules for the cinema entire.
In effect, another debate the film brings up is whether the content is separate from the form. Are the style and from independent of content? The answer is, yes, in some cases, no in others. The overwhelming camera angles during the KKK ride at the end, propagandize
the Klan as an important entity--valorizing content, informed by the style and form, or technique. However, in certain scenes, as the departing of the brothers illustrates, the classical form erases its own creation to draw attention to characters and plot. So the form actually does
involve the content, yet it makes itself invisible to boost the content as priority.
The next sequence is out of control, the first instance of war spectacle, at the same time improving on Edwin Porter's discovery of the 'crosscut.' Note that all the linguistic syntagms existed in a primitive form. His revolution, as every auteur since the Lumiere's is improving
what already exists. The reason so much technique is attributed to D.W. Griffith, is because, like Orson Welles after him, he perfected the craft. Bazin writes of Griffith, montage is "derived initially...from the masterpieces of Griffith..."
The intertitle displays the fact that Piedmont is holding a dance after the battle of bull run and the dancing is, of course, elegantly choreographed.
Red color tinting (in the crosscut scenes of night time celebrations in the street,) denote bonfires that place the visuals in a thesis (dance hall), antithesis (street bonfire) dialectic--and although both shots spliced together are, in fact, celebratory--here are the roots of "intellectual" or
"collision montage." And, as written, Eisenstein practiced his early editing skills by recutting BIRTH and INTOLERANCE, and in fact, in the case of INTOLERANCE, the Soviets had no other footage to cut, so they ordered the film in its chronological order and the like. BIRTH is attributable to the beginnings of
Soviet Montage, as well as, German Expressionism, let alone the Hollywood Industry. In their profound books of film theory, Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen praise Griffith for creating, "the most systematic meaning and the most effective rhythmic pattern," through editing. The montage, as it is during the bonfire
and dance, is so peculiar, because the film cuts from a different angle of the fire to a shot inside the house. Needless to say, the precedent for the cleverly divine GONE WITH THE WIND was laid upon the groundwork in BIRTH. Two Camerons--the old wise sage and the little girl sleep--and the Cameron's son covers his sister
in a confederate flag as a blanket, an icon that is given considerable metaphor for the 'Children of the South.' In a way, Griffith speaks to audiences of 1915 by placing the flag as a symbol of freedom. In a strange way, Griffith himself was seceding from the very way motion pictures were made and then his style became
mainstream, ironically.
Much affection is spread between the Cameron family--Then, the film shows the dance hall erupting in joy upon the news that the confederacy took the lead at the wars first battle, Bull Run.
The red tinted bonfire goes into the night--And at "daybreak" the troops must go into battle, which is illustrated by the Piedmont plantations swarmed by the people and soon after, a bugler in an establishing shot--then medium close-up plays a tune that is, no doubt, the music that calls men to arms.
A brilliant intercut of the dance hall displays the dancers reaction to the bugler--so far, the preparations for battle hardly that the world was at war around the time of the film's release and brink of battle, goes to show that pro-war propaganda can be found in the anti-war details. However, as is later viewed, if
one stance negates the other, then the negation over rules, for the most part.
Anyway, the Cameron's prepare for battle, as well--spending family time together in the final hours before the war. As the Cameron, read a flag saying, "Conquer we must/For our Cause is just," on a circle and the middle of the circle reads, "Victory or Death." There is a bit of contradiction to these historical
words. To "Conquer" does not mean to kill, yet the people will die for the cause. Loaded statements appear elsewhere in the film, particularly in the intertitles.
As the Cameron's pay their last farewell to send their two children off to war.
Fanfare continues in a regiment march down the street, as the South readies for war. And, in terms of the allegory present concerning war in the world, the implications wrought in the metaphor of the civil war of Americans, must have been a socio-political choice. Griffith's colonial impetus thematically centralizes
world crisis around a familiar American war, which serves to bolster the appeal of the U.S.--as nostalgic as Griffith is, his longings for an older world exacerbate his use of all American iconography.
In the 'Southern Departure' scene in the movie, pride is a factor that overcomes the men headed for war. The oldest Cameron son, gets on a horse and joins, in a match on action, the army parade. The crowd waves handkerchiefs in the air in perfect continuity. And, of course, the intellectual montage that is displayed
of troops marching off to meet the other troops, must be seen to be ascertained because the footage is so realistic, the black and white when the shot of the Cameron's at home watching the soldiers, it is hard not to feel a sense of emotion due to three Aristotelian traits: mimesis, kinesis and catharsis.
Finally, the Camerons, in a touch of poetic brilliance, return to their daily business, all in different depths of field--the little girl takes another look at the flag, while father smokes and converses etc. The use of an ordinary moment amidst the psychological tension, relieves the audience and provokes them to identification
with the humanism.
A moment later, past the 30 minute mark of the movie, the Northern character of Elsie Stoneman visits her father and relates to him of her brothers leaving for war. All the opening details of story and characters are in place, when the entire film, by the words, "Two and a half years later," transitions to Ben Cameron reading a letter
from home. (Notice the constant use in the intertitles of the paragraph symbol at the beginning of every thought, denoting grammar.)

Ben reads a sentimental letter shown in an insert, written by his sister--connecting the war front with home and advancing the plot of the film. Immediately, in Piedmont at the Camerons, a response shot of Ben's younger sister, framed by the doorway reading Ben's letter, is not shown in insert, like her letter was earlier.
After cutting back and forth from the doorway and 'Stairwell Room' Griffith arrives at a point of nostalgia, showing the Cameron Sisters looking elegant and leaving their house. The action picks up, as the ladies are startled by people running scared through the streets, to avoid the onslaught of oncoming militia raiders.
Old man Cameron grabs his pistol and the two girls rush back into the house, telling their father about the oncoming militia that bum rushes the town. All this while gun battles erupt in the street outside the plantations. The Cameron family retreats into a side room, as mayhem ensues right outside their house. The theme of a retreat
into a room to temporarily escape disaster is a theme Griffith used quite a bit in many of his films. Gish's character in BROKEN BLOSSOMS, to name a famous example, retreats to avoid being beaten up. (Later, her father nearly mercifully kills her in retreat to avoid any further molestation., in BIRTH...) Here, as per usual, technique creates suspense in the
action, intensifying the atmospheric anxiety.
It is relevant to note that mainly black people attack Piedmont, ravaging the town organized by a 'white captain' and soon they enter the Cameron's uninvited. As they ransack the place, the Camerons (except the old father, who is knocked down in the 'Stairwell Room,') retreat further back into the house, which is cut together by match on action--room to
room to escape the invaders.
Yet again, a complete penchant for grandiose spectacle is authorized by Griffith's command. The flaw of this otherwise perfect movie, is evidenced in the fact that most of the Africans are like savage automatons, capable of many potentially deadly acts, even when subjugated to brawling, as in a strange scene later involving an all out brawl between races.
Thus, the scene of the ransacking of Piedmont at this juncture, like so many other scenes, sets a precedent for how race should be handled in film--that is, incorrectly.
The strengths of the film is alongside its weakness because the fear of the hiding Cameron family elicits an empathetic response. Down into the cellar goes the women of the Cameron family. The youngest sister and older sister respectively, are lit by the key light in a medium close-up, two shot with no back or background lighting to create the illusion of being
consumed by the darkness of the cellar. At the same time the youngest sister is practically giddy either from fear or adrenaline or both. The older sister appears in this ghostly shot, in the cellar, as wild eyed as well. The shootings continue on the street, the lootings continue in the 'Stairwell Room.' Anarchy abounds and the singularly lit sisters pray for resolution to the
deadly situation. They know that their hopes and dreams are diminishing, that at any minute now they could be physically injured by the rioting militia.
Like most of Griffith's 'retreat' shots, the antagonist (or antagonists,) break into the first room the family hid, immediately the enemy head toward the next room of hiding in the series of rooms. Griffith splices in the 'last-minute rescue' he is well known for, cross-cutting a Southern soldier discovering the news of the plantation under siege. As the valuables of the Cameron house are plundered
and destroyed, the women wait underground, still reacting in their own cold way to the pandemonium.
Crosscut rescue suspense make erupts as the Confederate troops their way to the Cameron household and others' houses that have been set ablaze. The 'white' captain takes note of the gunfire in the street, places the order to burn the house down and the montage continues between interior and exterior shots of warfare in the streets. The Cameron family are freed to return from hiding and
they re-enter the blazing, red color tinted (for the fire effect), 'Stairwell Room.' In what seems like a jump cut, without a transition excepting an intertitle, the aftermath of the last minute rescue is played out like the denouement of a short film of Griffith's earlier film days. The relief of being saved by the Confederates leads to thanks to the soldiers and more familial bonding.
In the midst of war, Ben Cameron finds Elsie's picture that he has apparently kept since the cotton field scene. He delicately opens the picture and her graceful glory is Close-Up in insert, still frozen in time. Seated in his tent, Ben Cameron has never been as happy, viewing a picture of a girl he has never met.
The next shot and scene (thirty-nine minutes into the film) are the first of the battle-field where Cameron meets Stoneman, fighting for opposite sides of the war and slaying each other. They are the pair seen earlier referred to by an intertitle as chums that get along with each other in the introduction at Piedmont.
At any rate, the young men that were friends, kill each other. The transitioning from style and genre to a war film is smooth from an historical domestic melodrama and the up close and personal battlefield illustrates in detail the friends from earlier, running head-long into unwanted destruction. The friends are gunned down, one intentionally, one accidentally (due to checking out his dying friend that he
takes notice of.) The first death is accidental as well, to be honest, because the young men were merely fighting their personal battles upon being responsible for the others death. In fact, in a moment of eloquence the young men see each other eye to eye and stop fighting--only for death to follow. The scene concludes with the two young opposing soldiers dying on the ground somewhat close to each other and
slowly they die in dignity, as though they were brothers--friends to the end--
The past is confirmed to father Cameron at his house, reading the bad news of a death in the family--in sweeping emotions, each Cameron in a different way mourns the loss of a loved one. The Stonemans in the North discover they have lost a family member as well, and begin mourning for him.
To donate to the cause, at an unspecified later time in the episodical, elliptical narrative and plot, the Camerons are at their plantation, donating all of their nicest clothes to the war effort. It is difficult to imagine whether D.W. Griffith intended any of his film to be pro-war or pro-racism,
for that matter. If the scenario was a different war--as he captured many recreated wars on film--then the patriotism could be mistaken as pro-war sentiment. In BIRTH, war is disastrous in its effect, but in the depiction of the characters, they are genuinely loaded with preserving emotion.

Speaking of perseverance, Elsie Stoneman donates her time, as a nurse for wounded soldiers. Yet, even though the intertitle gives away her intent, all that is seen in the shot is father and daughter Stoneman leaving their living chambers.
The next shot is such a total 'doozy' that an entire book could be written about the one shot and nothing else. Long story short, collision montage occurs within the frame--as the camera pans right, it dramatically captures a horde of armies riding off to battle.
The shots are broken up into the mother and children and the armies marching. Overall, the effect of powerlessness versus powerful force becomes an open dichotomy of discussion, to say the very least.
The imagery of the helpless woman on the hillside stands to reveal through metaphor, the unseen vulnerability of the Southern force--which works well in the film to set up the burning of Atlanta--GONE WITH THE WIND later capitalized on this idea, and it is not a coincidence that the scene in WIND
is now far more recognized. In BIRTH the scene is granted far more poetry in the visuals--red color tinting to denote fire and flames--and the chaotic madness in the INFERNO of Atlanta becomes so hard to make out that a visual reference Northern Warfare in the film delves into the secrets of Griffith's
artistry. And to drive home the metaphor, the hillside shot from before is crosscut with the downfall of Atlanta, which proceeds with an interesting special effect of fire, somehow projected in the background and hordes of people running away--from the blaze. The full fledged Atlanta sequence is in appearance,
surreal and dream-like utilizing formal structure to aestheticize destruction of a city. For lack of a better phrase--the whole scene is a beautiful apocalypse, sublime in its spectacle. The madness of a fire in the streets (replete with irony or, as critics have termed ironia, a reflection of ironic paranoia,)
of Atlanta is meticulously detailed and impressionistic--veiled by clouds of smoke. Most of these "night" shots were a trick of silhouetted subject matter. The scene (intentionally, looking like the Fiery Gates to Hell) is mainly of silhouettes of escaping people--some of them on horseback. The realism that continues,
even upon special effect/sound stage usage, throughout the 'Atlanta Fire' is plausible despite the experimental nature of the montage, which shifts point of views and features many victims fleeing to survive. While all are in confusion, the fire becomes all the more raging. Seen from the exit of the city, the whole place
is up in flames, and Griffith mobilizes crowds at a time in the scenes that are of Biblical proportions. In another cut-in, smoke all but consumes the action.
Ultimately, the burning of Atlanta widens the palate in terms of style (pacing, framing etc.) and in the content creating a scenario during the war, in which, the central protagonists are not in the dynamic scene at all. Thus, the story progresses, based on an important historical calamity, without any key players present.
Of course, this example is not the first time there are no main characters--it is probably one of the most expensive scenes that they are absent from.
All through the film is the central idea of a crowd becoming a character of its own. Often the crowds here are involved in melodramatic spectacle-- a throwback to 'actualities,' and/or theater of attractions. The docudramatic feel of the film accentuates and hyper-intensification of the war's attractions.
In a sense, there lies an early Hollywood realist/formalist dichotomy taking root in BIRTH, as the dualism is played out during the destruction of Atlanta--
Without question, the special effect of double exposure is brought out often to delineate the loss of a city and with all the chaos and all the madness of an act of extreme vandalism, the effects shine through--integrated into the mainframe of filmed creativity. Up to this point in the film, the action was
rarely at such a hyperkinetic frenzy as the fire.
Shifting gears, the intertitle announces (46 minutes into the movie) that the Confederacy is headed for doom and to illustrate this, the harsh reality of food rations diminished to parched corn--even at the "battle lines," is the next frame of reference that draws upon the Southern woes, as their army approaches defeat,
which really is not foreshadowed by the written letters of distanced communication, placed strategically throughout.
Soldiers in a trench, await rations--hands in close-up urge for more corn and the soldiers deal with the hardships of poverty stricken troops. The representation of the Southern troops is now disenchanting--demystifying the nostalgia established prior, as the battle has clearly taken a toll physically and economically.
Struggles intensify when a "food train" headed for the Southern troops is hijacked by the Union. This detail is actually shown in pictures, a tangent that evidently interested Griffith enough to film. As the wagon train of food is stopped by horsemen, the food itself is illustrated in abstract, close-up cut-ins--
In the next intertitle, General Lee is mentioned, which brings up an interest in the historic mixture of fact and fiction. More and more examples of a sophisticated narrative fall into place, as the film progresses. Earlier in the movie, during the letter reading scenes, the 'sense of' mentioned 'distanced communication'
is interpreted by the viewer, in contrast, with the intimacy that Griffith has with his massive cast of extras that portray history. While quite a bit of screen time is devoted to other facets of war history (again, as the United States was in a formed contemporary war-zone in 1915.)
So, General Lee orders a backlash against the stolen food train and Southern and Northern troops, soon after, hit the battle-field against each other, in the first of a series of war scenes. Tinted red and in the darkened frame, explosions and gun-fire explode all over the screen, but the mise-en-scene is placed far enough away
to complete a sense of realism of warfare in the 1800's. The war scene leads up to Ben Cameron, now known as, "the little Colonel," explained in the text of intertitle--organizing with Confederate soldiers to make plans to attack, while explosions and smoke denote the chaos of battle. The warfare becomes a subjective experience for the audience--
creating a sense that the footage is cathartic upon screening and war-time is depicted as a destroyer of common ethics.
Ben, in full on uniform, orders his troops, to ready for the attack, authoritatively waves his saber in the air and charges forth--all for the effect of heroics, independent of 'a priori' knowledge of the lost cause of the South.
Among the most impressive shots of the entire film are during the same battle, when the camera is stationed at an extreme wide-shot, taking in a line of effectively placed troops, all but engulfed in smoke from gun-fire (coming from, both sides of the screen.)
The Northern front line is also in a trench, barricaded and lined with bayonet rifles that fire and reload like clockwork. The battle scene is a strategic production of massive extras, in staged warfare with rampant gunfire and shrouded in the chaos of the explosive field
of the conflict.
Backdrop--massive warfare in the distance, for a duration shown in totality--a well-edited spectacle for all times of the battalion structure--organized Northern troops firing from the right frame to the left, and a decimated Southern troop disorganized, while centralized in the frame--
Griffith focuses in on closer to the Southern Garrison, waving the flag at the Confederates--firing at the North--(note: from right frame, firing to the left)--calculating a rhythmized, heavily patterned flow of shots that symbolize a gun battle across a battlefield--troops on either side of the
warfare firing at the other. As the battle rages on-- a feeling of anti-war, pro-war dialectics enter into the picture. Due to the nature of cinematic frenzies of war--the repercussions all but equal the heroism--which portrays both a negative connotation of the murderous sacrifice of war and
positive, which simply boasts the very greatest side of humanity--to stand up as a military man, dying for a cause--strange in and of itself, considering America did not have a common enemy in the Civil War, rather, had an enemy among its own people.
Surely, BIRTH privileges the South as the hero--however, there are as well, protagonists on the Northern side--perhaps when "the chums" killed each other, the tides turned for the film in entirety--illustrating a veritable volume on the rights and wrongs of war--
whether or not derivations of which side holds a moral compass is read plainly or not--war exists here as nowhere else, equally justified on both sides. Of course, the South is given weighty precedence (as it will later in GONE WITH THE WIND) in terms of the more heroic--an idea that will gain
retread throughout.
The battle is as well choreographed as the dancing--music and violence combinations that Stanley Kubrick and Sam Peckinpah have deliberately used ideas from to drive home a detachment in aestheticized violence--a beautiful apocalypse that recurs as a cathartic, kinetic and mimetic reply
from art to society. In other words--the reflection of violence turned into art maintains hereditary values for two reasons, violence in war is realistic--the world will go to war again--repeatedly into oblivion--Peckinpah dealt with Vietnam as a realist in THE WILD BUNCH, while Kubrick's cold war to
Vietnam series (including DR. STRANGELOVE, BARRY LYNDON and FULL METAL JACKET) all incorporate Griffith's use of war as a grand spectacle--
A circulating documentary on BIRTH exists--created by David Shephard--which, actually reveals old Civil War films, circulating around the time of BIRTH. Not only were most of them short films (not by any means devaluing the film) but as grandiose as all the spectacles were, none can outgun
THE BIRTH OF A NATION. Compare INTOLERANCE to BIRTH, because to be honest, in terms of film spectacle, Griffith himself composed his own competition--the only true way to challenge technique is by out-doing technique on your authorship terms. In fact, BIRTH and INTOLERANCE travel together
in many respects, because INTOLERANCE is the continuation of the theme, done without the racism--clearly INTOLERANCE illustrates by converting stereotypes to archetypes (case in point--the Babylonians in the Babylon sequence)--which JUDITH OF BETHULIA did for the Israelites years earlier, which really
goes to show that D.W. Griffith's downfall of befriending Germans around the time of the Nazis rise to power as less anti-Semitic than other reports have proclamated--Yet, his racism seems to have gone in waves--not necessarily by the way his overall world-view dictated--
Let us wax analytical--why would a man go through various phases of differences as to how race, class and gender is depicted on film in a polysemical way to verify its multiple point of view?--Later, in film history various critics have hailed Jen-Luc Godard for his variety of changing Ideology--
If evolution were not random, it would be the perfect 'term' for Griffith's changes and corrections.
Anyway, Griffith's INTOLERANCE is yet another towering manifesto to the ideals that combat hatred of all forms and if it is an answer to BIRTH in terms of beliefs, then even the racism in BIRTH is somehow kept in check--in a Homeric ILIAD to ODYSSEY connection.
So, some 50 minutes into the movie and the civil war is already going strong, flamed into a tracking shot that from far away looks well staged, full of horses and riders, travelling to aid the troops that are almost from a bird's-eye view--a strategy found in videogames upon their sacred
advent--show the war from a distance and control the whole battle--in the same respect, Griffith is a dictator of images, never allowing his team of Joseph Henabery, James Smith, Rose Smith and Raoul Walsh to interrupt his own schemata of editing prowess--legend has it that he cut the whole film in
his head long before he shot it--manipulating all to his whim.
To say the least--his war footage has to be seen to be believed because all the arrangements of cutting include war footage so chaotic and almost surreal, surpassing the likes of even SAVING PRIVATE RYAN in how immersed the battlefield is in a meticulously constructed monstrosity of
confusion (although--the soldiers never mistake their enemy.)
On the Northern lines, in the mid to foreground, stand fortified behind a gate, dodging the oncoming rush of explosions cast upon their refuge. Their guns, cannons and turrets are all displayed like in a picture that is in a civil war museum--much like all of this footage of war.
Many times, in the film, the frame is entirely obscured, here again by smoke, billowing from incessant gun-fire and the like, which devours the picture until literally only a shred of battleground is all that is viewable. At this stage, in the next few cuts, the battlefield itself
becomes encapsulated by full on explosions, blasting the smoke screen into a match on action structuring metaphor of 'fire' enveloping the scenario--only this time, the smoke is in neutral mode--denoting violence inflicted by two just factions. The military men of the NORTH clamber to illustrate
a defeat of the South troops--and several moving shots evidence the clearance of a much larger field of battle over that, which Griffith reveals earlier in the fight.
The large battles are clearly an influence that came from the Italian "sword and sandal: epics, particularly CABIRIA (a continuation of Italy's legacy of features dating back to their first--also an epic--L'INFERNO directed by Giusseppe de Liguero and others to show Dante's vision in an extremely
primitive mode of representation in an unforgettable masterpiece of symbolic constructions,) Italy, all but mastered the early feature, although in the uncertainty of which country boasts the world's first feature--Australia's STORY OF THE KELLY GANG, a film that may no longer exist--but Wikipedia (as of June 2009)
states its claim--accurate or not. As for surviving features, who but the archivists really know?
The first three American features that coexist as the first are MANGER TO THE CROSS, (a Christ Passion Play), OLIVER TWIST (Dickens) and another period Shakespeare piece, but even MANGER TO THE CROSS in all of its influence over early Griffith features, taking control in INTOLERANCE particularly, according to Griffith CABIRIA
was a greater influence. The really crazy part is, no matter how many films influenced BIRTH there are thousands more influenced by BIRTH. Early origins depicting Griffith as a theatrical savant, acting while dreaming of Edison--only to actually break off from Edison's label and form a label all his own. By 1919, Griffith together
with his underlings Charlie Chaplin (debuting in a feature in 1914, TILLIE'S PUNCTURED ROMANCE), Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks who were all lucrative in feature film markets in film's like GOLD RUSH, SPARROWS, MARK OF ZORRO and THIEF OF BAGHDAD. which were all in direct and indirect ways Griffithian to the core--The four of them
got together and worked out UNITED ARTISTS, an entity that like Griffith rose and fell and rose again throughout rose and fell and rose again throughout its many years as a studio, yielding films that are modeled after the years of film evolution and progress. UA is a logo that did come back with a vengeance, marking the high point
in the commodity cultures of the 1980's and 1990's.
The war blazes from left to right, right to left, cutting, which instigates an entire affront to Hollywood editing, while creating the language of a war. Consider the beast of film as it is, as a symbol of things to come. If 1939's masterwork by Jean Renoir RULES OF THE GAME was as much about cinema's origins, which creates
a dead on accuracy.
In terms of existence, in every other war besides the civil war--America was not fighting America--but someone other--from another country, usually from another race. Take the Iraq war today under leadership that has led us into it in America. It is 2009 and people die every day in Iraq--yet the war in our own country,
is all cultural battles, like what came from the birth of post-modernity in France. Today, a cultural battle would go so far, as to eliminate even in BIRTH OF A NATION from the socio-intellectual culture of film's frames of remembered canonical works.
However, very many people have actually praised the work long after its thematics dated into the real controversy that exists now, which is almost all more relevant to the second half, which in terms of deconstruction is nearer, but to interpret the actual war footage is to behold either a dream or a nightmare of what it is like to fight a war
upon which there is not a side to partake of.
Now at last as fifty three minutes elapsed and what will be described here as Ben Cameron's final bum rush comes alive in the medium, as an instance of Griffith that will forever live on throughout the history of film as THE moment he will always be most remembered for--the last Southern stand against Northern troops watches closely, as the South
led by Ben Cameron, charges to the Northern lines, far less in numbers than them--an event not unlike a reenactment of what happened at the Alamo--a sacrificial idol everyone can appreciate.
Ben Cameron, front and center, huge in a theater, lunges forward with his Southern troops in a shot--followed by the North, blasting them down--Another shot of the guns dropping, firing etc. The battlefield is aglow in the next cut with mayhem and the Southern troops continue to charge in the midst of it all from different angles.
The battleground is still alight with smoke everywhere. Smoke enters everywhere--And as surreal as the film becomes--even with smoke in the air--the avant-garde movement of the French 20's yielded a number of cinematic movements that were entirely reactionary to the Griffith mode of thought. Or so it seems, because if Orson Welles and
Sergei Eisenstein unleashed early short films--then maybe the world's greatest shorts like MUSKETEERS OF PIG ALLEY or CORNER IN WHEAT measure up as greater than even today's greatest masterpieces like TITANIC, or perhaps shoe short films have paved the ground for lengthier films that do concertingly exist.
But with as much regards to how BIRTH is a direct descendant if Hollywood film, up to and until GODFATHER, which is a style all its own and complete unto creation of a New Standard of cinematic undertaking that models itself on the predilection of Coppola--which is, all incorporative of stylistics post-D.W. Griffith, but at least until Alfred
Hitchcock presented his highly experimental PSYCHO to the world and New American Cinema was hatched then and only then was the style of BIRTH taken out of absolute control. To be honest, if a contemporary film like COLD MOUNTAIN were taken into play, there is very little difference from the first half of BIRTH, which again, like the later Kubrick,
plays all but differently from the second half--encompassing a spectrum all different from one part to the next.
The point that must evidently be constructed as a point of departure from the totalistic totality of what is considered purity of image--the silent avant garde 1920's in France summed up the inevitable decay of future images and posed that their unsociable wagers purified the very notions of art's drive for singularity.
Pure cinema exists in BIRTH as clearly as purer forms, but to take socio-political iconography--alas the Southern troops charging forward at the Northern victors--who have all but claimed victory--deceive the entire audience into editing history. And in a transitional memory that defeats the purpose along the line from silent
to sound film.--the image reaches the level of purity in spite of its content due to the nature of its silence. While BIRTH in 1915 release was accompanied by an orchestra it still served to accomplish the purpose of serving the screen it issued to in terms of production.
As a denominator, take the 20's avant-garde as the only anomaly that does not exist directly--while still due in part to Griffith fever--spreading from shots like the one ordained--Ben Cameron charging at the assortment of troops. And all shown in various multiplicities of shots.
Introducing popular footage as such on display--is a disparate match as well of popular criticism--which as always mentions Griffith from text to text altering context only by switching from imagery to sacred imagery, he settles the score as to follow a bum rush with the rush of war the war itself,
which continues to blossom with effectiveness each turn of the editorial card--belonging in point of argument--almost entirely to the whims of Griffith. Take apart any editor--or even Raoul Walsh--for the most part and a cross section of the Griffithian idyllic exist for a time--soaking up the cause
and effect rhythmic flow that makes everything flow within a particular realm of the cosmos and tears everything else apart from deeply within and disgraces a generation from their false agendas seeking out what is not there beyond.
If there were a battle among the greatest of films BIRTH would win even among PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC and JEANNE DIELMAN... and the like, belonging to a non-existent class of silent film to the unit of film where the bigger is the better--to copy that which is at stake--a gigantic intermix in international
sensationalism that would grow to beyond a monolithic control to a major sensation of killer philosophical incantations that can beseech a thousand viewers at once to control them beyond spectacle.
Griffith shares with everyone else because he supposedly has the means to which at any right is the way to Griffith's ultimate message of BIRTH, which is to take place at a time when cinema needed a kick start or a final form of art that considers film among the immaculate arts, the forms of consciousness that motivate
the Soul or the likes thereof, which hereticize the very nature of God's appearances, which as of now belongs to BIRTH OF A NATION in the needs of spectacular choreography. Ben Cameron runs forward to either victory or defeat, whichever seems real--Griffith defeats image makers around the world at the early day of 1915 rifting consciousness for eternity. As for the encompassing
methodology of BIRTH, it is no question that the war sequence plays all encompassing catharsis.
But to maintain the whole epicurean awareness of the shot, the shot itself is to be examined in a wholly original stance nightmarishly proper--even so the Cameron family prey upon their Bible--to the tune of every kind of twisted plot there exists in the film--a prayer of survival for their son, which proves true but only in a few unexpected frames of footage. When in
the cahiers du cinema notable frames of found art is proselytized and pontificated upon, let it be known that here lies the watershed upon that which filmed art is founded around, the centralized objective of film is the essence of time and space hybridized for unity in conjunction with reality and metaphor drawn upon heavily--here for the smoky, decimated battlefield and a closer-up look
juxtapositioned with a family full of prayers seeking the Lord to intervene on the plains of the war, as if he would not otherwise.
Avant Garde films that came in the next decade were full of ideas that BIRTH had only up until recently gained access to, which lead again, to the purity of imagery--an effect the battle scenes of BIRTH have on the viewer--almost as though no other war imagery is manifest earlier or later than BIRTH, which posits itself as a manufacturer of all film in dealership with war propaganda
mode- a sense yearned for only in ages far earlier than BIRTH.
So in CABIRIA, a totality of imagery placement is sufficient unto the calibration that a more recent epic--THE BIRTH OF A NATION finally imparts upon itself the ultimate scrutiny--deconstruction, a failure of a term to plainly meet the film in scrutiny--but when war is a constructed object of fear, desire and an age old heart of subjection to violent despair, war is only as modern as
represented. Film itself contains the modernity required in philosophical construction; Age old commodifiers only please that aforementioned, hereditary response. When a troop runs through the front lines of their enemy, as Southern does to Northern here and nothing else subliminal besides south centricity, is subject to manufacturization of imagery, let alone sound--
In fact, so many different sounds have accompanied BIRTH from orchestra to organ that there need be an extensive deal more of research on how sound exploded across BIRTH's solemn screen. The soundtrack given to the film is in need of fine tuning, gesturing FLIGHT OF THE VALKYRIES to the final ride of the KKK as some kind of peaceful tome to beget endless stories--here
there are endless Civil War spin-offs that endure GONE WITH THE WIND at the early stage, COLD MOUNTAIN and others since--an amalgam of Civil War fame and striking chords in the distant countries like the Soviet Union, which consequently faced disaster by not applying to an older philosophy and thus ending in disenfranchisement as warned later would happen (or 'is happening') in 'agit-prop-train' films.
In an unusual way, the rushing forth of the Southern lines in The Civil War issues no less a confinement to a safer series of monetary recompense--a way to safeguard the flow of economical recourse proving in 1915 to be a boon of financial highlights, marking a watershed in finance history, to date. How did Griffith know siding with the South would be so lucrative?

Ultimately, the editing in BIRTH uses an interesting intellectualism found later in the Soviet Montage school-particularly here in the civil war battle-- a scene of the Cameron's still praying that their son won't die, or the like, and meanwhile the following cut is the Northern battle and troops from the South meet their doom at the Northern front line during a bum rush. In fact,
the documentary effect of the battle makes for a Bazinian sense of preserved history--as text or image provides. Hard as it is to piece together the 1915 American President Woodrow Wilson's actual stance on the film's historicity, it is not too surprising that the movie is not only a historical landmark about history--it is clear history is carefully constructed--at least during the battle,
which displays unparalleled action, so jam packed, with extras playing soldiers that Griffith must have literally commanded quite the regiment--a task not easily reproduced but always attempted on film ever since. Of course, as impressive as the scale of the work remains, the orchestration of the events is equally fantastic.
The final stand of the South depicted here is cinematic nomenclature precisely due to its understanding of shot placement and troop organization. In the former sense, the battle is coherently drawn out for the spectator, which feeds into the latter sentiment of well-placed troops in the shot--Of course, in the narrative, the Southern apocalypse is at hand and they truly do not go
down without a fight; Bayonets clash, soldiers are gunned down and troops are depleted to the point, according to the intertitle that only a 'remnant of the regiment remains to continue the advance.' The intertitles are a constant reminder of Griffith's lucid, loaded, literacy.
However, battle scenes are produced in cinema, Griffith's civil war is indeed not a clear cut, easily solvable structure, nor is it a political move. In fact, there exist an intensity of violence and confusion throughout in a cinematic project that began with the short film, A GIRL AND HER TRUST (a slavery film, in which a loyal slave rescues his white counterpart in order to cast
sympathy upon the African-American effort)--ranging to the fall of Babylon in INTOLERANCE. Perhaps, the way that Griffith's confusion of battle lines (though the South in BIRTH is, at this point still in flux and the determinism that rules this episode presents a Southern defeat and an explicated victory)--is Griffith's goal of eliminating future civil war with film, and whether he botched it
(not realizing the scariest axiom that life often imitates art, even when art is meant to imitate life.)
At any rate, the rapid intercuts of midshots of battle lines, focuses back and forth on soldier's keeling over in Close-Up. As the excitement of this entertainment builds, the intensity of the battleground is harsh as hell, therefore producing the intentional double-standard that Griffith is so fond of.
The point of interest comes when Southerner Cameron provides a drink of water from a canteen, although the soldier is near death. Emblematic of the structural metaphor of water as a lost provision, is something that will save the Cameron from dying later, in the movie (several times, including a time that is not far off from the 55 minute mark is the Cameron boy's first saving grace.
The Northern lines, ruled by the Stoneman's son, cheer on the good deed of the Southerner, who is Ben Cameron and as he dodges a bullet, he smiles while recoiling. Meanwhile, as film archivist David Shephard explains in essential documentary that Griffith literally used the same battle lines for the North and the South, only rearranged them to face one direction or another. Another
trick used here is an early silent film trick of exploding smoke from the rifle blasts that engulf the battlefield in smoke nonetheless.
Southern soldiers are gunned down by the Northern lines as the final approach becomes completely doomed. Ben continues to survive the attack and travels with a battered Confederate flag. As much gunfire obscures the lines (remember both sides are just and flawed.)
Now through few cuts we have what several critics agree to be the ultimate point of expertise in this important piece of film history. Ben Cameron, amidst the random chaos, takes his flag and shoves it into a cannon in Close Up. However, while this may be the moment of "Zen" (a phrase coined by talk show host Jon Stewart on the Daily Show on Comedy Central) there isn't really much to the
post-structural approach other than the pure icons of a flag being shoved into a cannon. If Sigmund Freud himself read into the message of the scene, there would be still, in this author's opinion, no actual meaning behind the perfect shot. Even so, there are many ways to read the emblematic shot, however, many of them lead to dead ends, which is theoretically Griffith's intentions.
The series of shots that follow are replete with emotion, considering, that the Cameron's and Stoneman's are once again, face to face, only unlike the chums that meet their doom, the elder brother of the Stoneman family bounds out of his protective Northern line to rescue the Cameron's eldest. Although, uncertainty of his old friends identity makes sense because of the Cameron's eldest
growing a moustache.
The Northerner risks life and limb to save the Southerner from death.
Next, a jump cut offers a red tinted vision of nightfall with multiple explosives erupting all around. The oxymoron display of a title card, which reads "War's peace," still framed by the ominous name of Griffith on both sides of the title card (at the top of the frame) and his first and last initials centered at the bottom. Also the paragraph symbol is still usually in display on the cards.
For those looking for a single phrase to guard in their hearts, the shortest title card ("War's peace,") is the definitive clue to deciphering Griffith's double standard of pro-war/anti-war dialectics.
Following the intertitle is a shot that could very well be a painting, framed on both sides by parallel black lines and a dark arch elliptically creating a door that reveals corpses strewn about--corpses of soldiers that have found peace in death, though the title card prior to the shot reveals the flaw of war, that death in the battle (stark as it may seem) is the only freedom that the soldiers are able to achieve.
(The shot seems to be of dead Northerners, as the battle is on the left of the frame and a cannon points left. It is not accidental that left wing politics were typically, a Northern fight to free the slaves and this makes it all the more trippy that the North is on the right, facing left. Geography in this movie, begins to reveal the confusion of civil warfare architecture in general.)
Admittedly, the corpse closest to the foreground does look slightly happy. Griffith fades out and reiterates that the battle continues to engulf the imaginary field in spite of the fallen soldiers. The pyrotechnical explosions are here integrated into a context that is at once sensational and also chaotic. The whole scene is like a fireworks display. And then Griffith fades back into an even closer look at the
fatal damages of annihilation of human life, again hearkening back to the previous intertitle of "war's peace," although the revelation of the erupting battlefield remains in mind and creates an objective distance to critique the war through a discomforting thought that war itself is a fucking disaster no matter how it is seen.
G.W. Bitzer's camera work is revolutionary in every sense of the word. Bitzer must have tapped into Griffith's mind. A clever approach taken to connect cinematographer with director, requires a mind, body, soul connection where for a moment the actors are obeying every whim of the director's enlightenment. The surrender at nightfall is the final short sequence that delineates the drawn out battle footage,
discussed here in length. Returning to daylight through a yellow-hued tint under an arch framed by either a lens filter, or a film stock alteration. The Northern troops are seen from afar, and in the next cut, the army men run toward on the background, which, in this film looks like a street paved with Gold. Is this sentiment of a victorious North antiwar? That is like asking, does Griffith expose the Klan in order to
have them brought out into tired discussion?
The next intertitle reveals that the news of the deceased and near deceased travels. The youngest Cameron girl reads to her family the news of the departed, and the family have a strange look of happy denial that the whole thing happened. After a few moments the youngest Cameron girl is seen to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
The Cameron sisters embrace each other in delirium and outrage over the loss of familial structure, which began as an act of wholeness that war decimated. Cut back to the hospital in the North, where the Cameron soldier lies on his near death bed and none other than Lillian Gish, in Stoneman character approaches coincidentally and she is
playing a banjo, moving toward the foreground, where she has a seat next to the shell shocked war veteran nick-named "The little Colonel" and she appears not to recognize the fallen soldier as she strums out a few notes on her instrument. In an elliptically framed close-up, Gish's character appears happy, looking out of the corner of her eye at the
Southerner, while signing something that only a sound film could pick up. And although Alice Guy had already invented sound for the French Studios, Griffith's approach to music was all orchestral (although, operas and musicals are an extension of the orchestral and, in fact, there are post-cinematic --or audience fancult representatives--that could
put sound to silent images--but hardcore silent buffs, particularly those in Rudolf Arnheim's camp, prefer when image alone is purified, practically to the point that even the score disappears.) The next immediate Close-Up is of Colonel Cameron feeling the soothing presence of the love of the unknown banjo music.
The close-up shifts over to Ms. Stoneman who is now facing the Colonel. And in this odd shot-reverse-shot, which does not follow the rule established in classicism, in which the 180 degree line is never crossed (here it is not crossed either) but later the Classicists in American Cinema would angle the camera within a 70 degree half-radius
in order to improve upon the relaxation of the gaze. Yet, Griffith makes no mistake in a full frontal isolation of the characters in Close-up, as it is his way of attracting the very characters in Close-Up in this series of moving photos is of the colonel recognizing his surroundings (in spite of his physical misery that leaves him in a near coma.)
So in a medium close-up Gish's character (Elsie Stoneman) reads a letter (less grim than the letter received by the Cameron's but still part of the letter chain that Griffith is so fond of--using actual hand-written documents that confirm that every ability that is within the noble characters reverts to the nostalgic standard that creates an ethos
of friendship. In connection with the materialism of a hand-written diegetic note in place of an intertitle, is a technique that is useful for modern filmmakers in order to recenter the script into a tight space, revealing that the characters can communicate and in the midst of war, it is surprising how cordially the notes appear to fill the gap of confusion
that a nobleman creates with charity--before war became an act of annihilation--
Eye contact between the actors increases awareness that in the 10's, human relationships were not built on sexuality, although sex appeal was important, the men and women were not as objectified as the ballooning film market has commoditized sexuality.
Ben Cameron looks at the photograph of his would-be future girlfriend, that he toted with him through thick and thin. Although Ben appears to be in a haze, due to a wrapped head wound, but Gish sees her own picture (revealed in a cutaway.)

The event confuses and bewilders her and she wonders how the total stranger, although remains a look of premonition, as though there is a way to admonish a respective educated guess as to who the man might be, though clearly she cannot tell.
As the Mother of the Cameron family busts in to find her wounded kin, she alerts attention to the guards, who have not the same groundwork of a war system today, as the rules had not been laid down by the Geneva convention or had there
been a total world war nor had the League of Nations or the United Nations stepped into the picture. The mother is determined to get past the guard, so much so that she puts her life on the line, claiming from the intertitle induced screenplay/script,
"I am going into that room to my boy. You may shoot if you want to." The guard appears to respect this behavior, as other guards in the background don't even notice what is going on, engaged at a table meeting that appears also to be a bureaucratic registry for censure purpose, all that is known, the meeting is post-militaristic decision making.
At any rate, Elsie Stoneman leans over her patient, drawn to him with a reserved but passionate tonality. As she is charmed by the wounded soldier, the mother that exited stage right in the previous linked shot matches on action and direction, as the Mother slowly enters the next shot walking from left to right along the wall, facial expressions relaying shock and bewilderment, as she slowly feels drawn to her son by an unseen force of her own intuition. In awe and displacement, the Mother of Ben Cameron lights up in a good way to receive her son with open arms, this relationship dawns on Elsie, as also a good thing. It is interesting, also to note that Ben Cameron is in hysteria, not due to the women’s reactions, but due to his war wounds, creating onscreen chemistry that Griffith must have clearly smiled upon.
However close Griffith was to his family of stock actors, it is clear that he was always out to reinforce French Liberal archetypes by elevating the death of the chums, for example, as a reservation against pitiable war-time struggle. However, the dynamic evidenced in this later scene a complex picture of war, yet, the unreasonable body count creates a miracle of wonders in Ben Cameron’s heroic survival. As the two women, watch Ben, quickly learn to recognize what is going on, their glances fade into happiness rectifying the entire purpose of the shot, which is recognition of a legendary moment in time, both painful and precious.
An intertitle explains that conspiratorial means of putting Colonel Cameron to death are at play. The army Surgeon that relates the news is unaffected to the situation, preparing for no pleas or bribes. As the mother cries helplessly on her bed-ridden son, Elsie is surprisingly happy, informing Ben’s mother of an option to seek out President Abraham Lincoln, or, as she terms, “The Great Heart,” the women leave to seek their appeal to this higher power.
Before delving into the Lincoln sequence following, clearly his a fissure or breaking point of the cosmos of Griffith. The 1920’s ultimately proves to have far more abundant and greater titles than any other decade in film history. From Griffith’s own WAY DOWN EAST until Vertov’s MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA, the titles in between that are lesser known—ARSENAL by Dovshenko and FACES OF CHILDREN by Feyder—cult status films like Kinugasa’s PAGE OF MADNESS and the Great Canonical Masterworks. Like THE GOLD RUSH by Chaplin, and Ozu’s I WAS BORN BUT…, BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN, METROPOLIS, GREED and PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC, do not all necessarily mimic Griffithian codes, but rather span from the idea, that director as auteur reaches a high point in critical desire—explicating and extrapolating first American flawless Master Griffith, truly enslaving only himself and in regards to film history is quite frankly more important than any other event in artistic historical, teleologically driven evolution.
If Griffith must be credited for another landmark in creation, then it is his evolution of depth of field, which is never rivaled again. Think of watching the film on a small television and the various planes of horizontal axis is adjusted by Griffith and Bitzer’s camera angles, which shoot almost dead on straight, while only a screening creates through, a mysterious force, best described as a persistence of visual depth. In actuality it is a lighting technique, that dissolves the mystification of depthful wizardry.
Like a historical “chamber of wonders” (an invention not so unlike a modern diorama. In Griffith’s portrayals of Abraham Lincoln, his later films catered to the left wing revisionary hopefulness that was up to date research that the man’s complexifities, all but offered deliverance of African Americans. Here around an hour and five minutes in, Lincoln appears fearless, unfettered and is the abstraction of hero worship, despite the fact that Northerners (and perhaps even a Southern turncoat—remember left and right wing politics factored in the North and South, less than the Southern philosophy of state sovereignty and the Northern accumulation of federal support,) all but surround their leader watching a leader, as though in a king’s court visiting with a long line of visitors, cordially approaching a human likeness of Lincoln. Keen on historical reenactment episodes, strengthening the humanistic presence of Lincoln in assurable gait.
In a separate shot, Elsie Stoneman and the Cameron Mother stand apprehensive yet happily peaceful. Iris masking opens to the next shot (Iris circled around Lincoln), Finally, in a match on action of Elsie moving from right to left (facing the president on the left.) She extends her hand and shakes his politely as he is still seated. The meeting is casual. The mother shakes her president’s hand, as well. Gish is seen close-up a bit off to the side.
As the appeal goes into effect it is not hard to imagine how pardoning soldiers could have played a role in his later assassination. Although, admittance exists that Griffith purely told stories like it happened historically, or at least, in his world view, melded with centricist politics, compatible philosophy, and cinematic enthusiasm, which redundantly took first gun in his repertoire, as he was in on the Muybridgian dawn of Still Photographs that charted the way in a Hegelian fashion of a ghost or spirit reviving the hurt of America. In other words, Lincoln stands and urges the shy Mother to speak to him, however, let it be known that the age old debate, as it has been considered the bane of academia, film historicity and the race war the movie quite possibly created has all but swept its validity under the rug.) For a moment, however, the argument to remain true to television is balanced by the forces that intend to disharmonize film to replace TV with it, or vice versa, a cultural mind game that is like a play of tag, where the leading medium of the moment is not cooperative with the anterior medium. Here as BIRTH is viewed, even on a large television, many critics have actually argued (Susan Sontag, for instance) that the process is in decay due to the move to other mediums. However, clearly the TV moves us in ways that promote equilibrium, particularly among audiences that have found a therapy in Televisual awareness. Unfortunately, fort the film and TV crowd, BIRTH is a caustic message any way it is viewed. Practically any reading of the movie, is a troublesome reading, whether Griffith’s dirty joke was to make an unremarkable film or not. Still, the sheer entertainment, even on the “small” screen is worthwhile to a brave enough audience of history buffs.
If Griffith’s war war-time philosophy was how money, fame and power are equal to corruption (money being the slave trade, fame being absent from BIRTH, except Lincoln’s image and power—in this case Griffith’s holistic, totalitarian control over the movie—then maybe he should have needed his own cautionary tale without frightening the fuck out of everyone by choosing the Clansmen (K?) as a source material.) An insinuation of Dixon’s last name being associated with civil war, boundary Mason—Dixon line, which denotes masonry as a Northern gig (typically, privileged because of winning the war historically) and Dixon as the Southern plane, which means that the only psychoanalytic/psychological motive for Griffith’s privilegization of the pre-Classical South (marginalized for bad reasons—a notion of happy slaves and a good—a recapitulation of Klan ideology, which, although dangerous when repressed—most agree that the world is a better place without them) is due 100 percent to the fact, that his old man was a Southerner (the archetype of the Cameron father) war soldier—which goes beyond mere talks of “folk-lore” as Richard Schickel describes in his watershed study. Of course, a poetic tome as Schickel’s is trippy enough to subliminally induce Griffith hysteria (in a positive logic)—“folk-lore” as he describes, is only one piece of the cyclical puzzle. And in Griffith’s case, there is no way to out puzzle the puzzler. At least, for now, perhaps, the secret is in the movie somewhere.
Or are there logical signs and signifiers that unveil a greater evil than has been unrecognized up until present times? In other words, the urging of RACE, CLASS and GENDER and Religious Tolerance as a goal to implement a final solution to the race war is present and is hostile on any level.
However, if the film discourages, one act of immorality toward another, is that too not “neo-realistic.” Still, I doubt that Griffith had nothing but a clear conscience while doing it. Does the man have blood on his hands. There is no irony behind the fact that more white people appreciate him than black. However, there is an African American professor Dr. Todd Boyd at USC that point to the film as an unshakable landslide of a marketing ploy—mixed with artwork—or to be paraphrasing the context of his writing, he felt that the film was a smash success for bourgeoisie reasons alone, as well as a theatrical impetus for future mediums.
To phase out the militant anti-militance of the film, Lincoln is the centralized peacemaker in the whole event, which is, a point; that Griffith, John Ford and Stephen Spielberg have not compromised on, the honor and duty toward American Presidents. With Griffith, Lincoln is far more humanized than deified. In fact, the film makes it seem for a Southern soldier’s acquittal—but Elsie Stoneman’s sentimental gaze (one which would please the Mulveyians in terms of positioning a female as subject and Lincoln, as object--) (On a side note, rumor on the website, imdb.com is that the man that played Lincoln, in reality, played twelve other parts, at least, which is extremely evident if looked closely, but watch out for such power of suggestive, unverifiable internet material. To verify a fact, my friend Suren M. Seron helped release FOREVER PLAID recently, and his model of studies was film school for awhile, but much more hands on years later. This makes you realize that not everything you read is verifiable.) Gish’s look at Lincoln, softens his heart and truth be told that Gish was more handsomely rewarded than any other actor/actress in the film.
At any rate, the mother is so terrified of losing her last child, that Griffith Irises in a fade to the hurting man, as though his lack of recovery is worsening due to his death sentence (execution for war crimes against the side that won. In the next shot, the mother lowers her head and Lincoln takes heart and pats her on the back, realizing the only way to spare her anxiety is by saving her wounded son. She drops down on her knees as Lincoln writes his name out of the death registry. Do not read into this as the reason Lincoln was later killed, because he was killed by a Southerner , as well.
So there is deliberately no connection, Lincoln signs the pardon and hands it to the now cheerful women, excited that justice is accomplished.
Lincoln seemed to understand why the women are happy and turns away to attend his duties. Wonderful, because Abe Lincoln had nothing to do with slavery but freed the men that did, which is a contradiction that he felt was most likely justified by the “all men are created equal” clauses in both the bill of rights and constitution (though not in those words). It must be noted that because the South ran out of money due to abolitionists, they became poor and it is interesting how Griffith privileges the poor in spirit, in wealth and a dim future stability to maintain them against the odds of poverty and how they could have diverted war without violence by gaining their money back through reparations, although reparations would have averted the Klan, they sprung from the hatred bred by poverty.
Perhaps no reparations could rebuild the damage that had been done to say Atlanta, a town-city that was more liberal in view than others.
Let us pause again for another brief moment to lay stake to a claim that Griffith was a stickler for oppositional readings—a fact that requires a bit of diachronisity considering that it Christian Metz who lays claim to this theory—however, taken at face value for what it is BIRTH OF A NATION could be read in a logical reversal of words as DEATH TO THE SEPARATISTS or DEATH OF STATE SOVIERGNTY, whichever is hard pressed to please the rigid mind that attempts to clear the conscience of one of the world’s most contradictory men in history—Truly, Griffith is beyond good and evil in the Nietzschean sense of the ploy—As best as an educated guess could be derived at this point is that the entire film was a spectacle to sell tickets, elaborating on caustic themes to distract the world from the impending war, which left almost no one anything to believe in besides the cinema.
(Author’s Note: There is a way to revolt against the caustic side of the unremarkable D.W. Griffith and that is turn his name into a play on words, such as D.W. “Spliffith,” as he is known among several ‘marijuana’ communities.)
Back to the movie, there is a terrible problem eating away at the fabric of time and it manifests itself far later in BIRTH, a problem worse than the rest and by today’s standards it looks ugly. In a scene that strikes nauseating terror into the hearts of contemporary audiences everywhere and that is an intertitle post-Southern Apocalypse during the second half of the film, in which, an African-American northern freeman lusts after the “mammy” manifestation of an African-American slave woman. The woman is quoted as saying, “’Dem niggahs from da north sure ‘am funny.’” However you slice it this is a cutting remark and hurts the body of cinema in totality.
In fact, while this author believes that the word should never be used by anyone at anytime ever again, it compromises Griffith’s greatness on every level, except perhaps historical context, which remains to be seen until all the facts are in. The use of the “n” word is so out of date that it is overused when it should never be used at all. But, when the word is in this, the greatest of American films, it is the monkey wrench that sinks the whole ship by today’s standards.
The irony, of course, is that as much as it sickens this viewer, it is used as a moment even in this book, which means it rears its ugly head, even here and thus, is a testament to the fact that either racism will end, or it purely continues on total negative or positive forms allowed only in denotive (negative) or connotive (positive) forms. The word is so bandied about today that it may very well fall off the face of the Earth, with any luck. But is a heavy-duty negative use in BIRTH a way to end it forever, or does it justify the use among people? Perhaps the problem is connected to a larger issue at stake within today’s postmodern slippage of meaningless words that do not have any context whatsoever. However, this author is not African-American and thus is ashamed for even bringing it up, though will be forced to again, once that hard to watch, darkly comic scene rolls back around in a linear fashion.
After Elsie Stoneman and Mrs. Cameron join together to plead over the little Colonel’s pardon to Abraham Lincoln, in yet another scene that could never be remade, a nice looking nurse sits next to the wounded soldier, very concerned for his well being—and clear enough, Ben C. is totally enamored by her presence, albeit still a little half-crazed from his head injury (head wrapped in gauze.) However, the instant Ben realizes that the woman seated to his right is not Elsie Stoneman he appears a bit disappointed and as the nurse stands to leave Elsie and Ben’s mother rush into the room and take a seat next to the fallen victim of war to explain to him that Lincoln has handed back his life to him.
Another trait that must be appreciated about D.W. is that he is literate. The next cut to an intertitle explains that Mrs. Cameron’s son is “convalescent”—in other words “stable” and “coherent.” Ben waves goodbye to his mother almost instantly recovering upon his pardon. In the next cut (a match on action from the hospital prison room back to the guard registry.) Ben’s mother gives Elsie a hug and a cordial kiss farewell in both familial and amicable fashions.
Gish’s charisma is, in fact, (in this precursor to her ensuing “klansploitation”) so contagious that even the prisoner hospitable guard makes eyes at her and she senses his lustiness so she skedaddles. However, the guard continues to stare and in a way this proves that Gish is the subjective thinker and the guard is the objective, because the shot construction is a depth of focus, medium length take (and in the background, it seems the doctors are entirely too engaged in work to notice the vibes.)
Erstwhile, Elsie Stoneman is coaxing Ben Cameron back to health, however he looks beguiled by her charm. She shies away at his look because she can sense a healthy romance. This attracts her to no avail, but the Southerner senses her shyness and respects it. So true to her heart the Northern girl distances herself from Ben and then he reaches for her after she is out of reach.
Next, the film travels back to the plantation of the Cameron’s ownership. Although the senior of the family is placed to the left in the foreground feeling tired, but the sense of relief that his wife and daughter share over the release of their son from the death penalty creates a healing sense of rejoicing. And then a white woman in black face, the ‘mammy’ archetype from earlier enters, with averted gaze to listen to her masters joy and she is thrilled but all is obscured by the mother and daughter that make their way front and center—kissing and embracing is not to be ashamable in this familial structure.
Transition to title card—another historical facsimile, at least to the point that history had been discovered in 1915. Which brings up the ugly question of censorship again—if this event is/was/ history, why eliminate it from the curriculum—of course, at this point the movie still has not veered off the path so much as it has been blamed for. If racism exists, shouldn’t it be exposed?
Anyway, Robert E. Lee surrenders here based on a book cited in the intertitle as “’Campaigning with Grant.’” The whole scene is again played out like a museum-piece and the war general seated foreground, left-screen representing Northern Ulysses S. Grant that awaits the Southern General (as he puffs a cigar, seated on the right side of the screen) behind them are officials in military outfits. Lee signs the agreement, hands it to his assistant and the wax museum ‘chamber of wonders’ fades to a title.
Next intertitle reads, “end of state sovereignty” and quotes Daniel Webster (a quote that will be replayed later): “’Liberty and union, one and inseparable, now and forever.’ Grant and Lee cordially shake hands and supposedly the war is over. In fact, the next scene explains that Col. Cameron is “discharged” from the hospital prison the same day—which is an insinuation that the two events are cross connected.
On the same set piece where Elsie parted ways with Mrs. Cameron (the guard door of the hospital prison)—Elsie (still watched by guards) cordially shakes hands with Ben in a sentiment that keeps the ball rolling on a developing friendship. Ben makes a romantic gesture and is shooed away by Elsie (most likely due to the guards.) But in a completely romantic way Ben kisses the hand of Elsie and she appears pleased but holds in her feelings—Ben exits frame left. She follows him a ways and comes to a stop half way across the room, turn to face the camera and becomes very shy with joy at this developing Romantic subplot. The guard attempts to transfer her erotic energy to himself to no avail.
So Elsie S. crosses from screen left past the lusty guard and exits screen right. In the next shot Mae Marsh’s character, the youngest sister of the Cameron’s prepares a meal of parched corn for her brother’s return—(a match on action cut examines the plate, that the corn is being prepared on) Cut back to the kitchen in the mansion, and as the aristocratic legacy of the Cameron’s is continually reduced to nothingness, her happiness prevails in anticipation of her brother’s return. The African-American woman (house slave in a white minstrel woman in black face) enters to offer the young white girl a beautiful strip of lace for her outfit so that she can look optimal—The next intertitle explains that the material is a cotton-based ‘Southern ermine.’—
Next, the youngest girl in the family attaches more cotton to her outfit so she can be dolled up for her brother. Fade out and fade up to the same girl continuing to primp and prepare so that her brother will realize how attractive she is—She puts ashen soot onto the white cotton and to be honest, she never appears more elated counting to herself to keep track to keep track of how much black soot should go onto her outfit—Next cut shows the girl hopping across the room remaining excited (crossing from left to right to the middle of what could very well be her living quarters. Never looking more beautiful, she rushes to the right of the frame in the foreground.
After a moment, she begins to act saddened by the fact that her dress will never be up to the same specs it was before she donated her clothes to the war. Next intertitle reads: “The homecoming.” The outside of the plantation of the Cameron’s is empty (house entrance on the right and the fence and hedge in the middle. Ben Cameron slowly steps into frame from the left (first his shadow is seen) and he stops to examine his old tromping grounds, approaching his family’s abode with fear and humility. As he looks around, he gets a sense that things are both different and the same. He slowly approaches the gate agape, albeit burdened by memories.
Cross cut to the young Cameron girl in the house’s living quarters (from before) and she is now overjoyed (as though she can sense her brother’s approach.) Her older sister approaches (as well as the mother of the Cameron’s). As the oldest sister fawns over her little sister’s homemade dress, it is clear that her gown is nicer and the little sister feels a bit jealous, though without remorse.
Feeling validated she rushes to the door in mid-ground right and peers out while the mother and the oldest daughter are excited—Apparently, the youngest daughter catches a glimpse of her brother because she gestures about with her face, motioning as though she has seen his large moustache. So the three women rush out the door into the ‘Stairwell Room’ (followed slowly by their old father and they stand center stage as though they are now looking through a proscenium—reverting as bit back to what Noel Burch describes as the primitive mode of representation.) Cut to Ben Cameron slowly opening the gate to the homestead—back to the women joyous and jubilant, sending his approach.
Ben, in the next shot, walks along the center of the frame to the back along an axis described in televisual terms as the (x,y, and z) axis, when x=width, y =height, and z=depth. For now, he slowly approaches the “z” axis to look into the house—and it is not quite clear why he goes slow, other than that he is nervous from having been gone for so long. This is all before the Klan comes into the show—(Author’s Note: One thing I am uncertain of is how the Klan may have lobbied Griffith with fear tactics to present them in a heroic fashion, as the underground Grand Dragon’s of today are far too covert to admit any guilt—although this ground is covered in the contemporary movie American History x—at least to an extent)—but it must be noted that the audience was dying of suspense awaiting their presence, especially a repetitious viewer.)
In the next cut it is factual and proven that the youngest sister is the boldest in the bunch, striding forward with no worries.
Next shot, the angle changes and Ben Cameron (seen from behind) cape barely blowing in the breeze. Actress Mae Marsh’s character comes rushing out the door to greet her long time gone brother.
(Author’s Note: There is a story floating around that when Griffith’s African American house servants—chronicled in Schickel’s account—saw the movie at last, they were morally offended and he honestly could not understand why. Apparently, he must have not have seen BIRTH OF A RACE, a reactionary film to his own, for increasing ascertainments of this fact.)
At long last, the young Cameron girl rushes out the door and examines her slightly downtrodden brother—a different angle than the later arm reaching out the door. In fact, a theoretical stance could be interpretive that as the seasons change the angles change (unlike, say MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS, which examines each season from a full frontal perspective—at first in actual paintings, which fade into staged reality.)
Ben, looking beguiled turns to almost face the camera and knowing that Griffith is redefining film style, it is easy to imagine why the characters avert their eyes when confronted by an unbearable mixture of happiness and sadness. The reaction is entirely reciprocal as the young girl can see into the hidden pain that is tearing Ben Cameron apart. As Ben removes and feels a piece of cotton from his sister’s dress, it is a feeling of nostalgia that hearkens back to days of heaven and the wonder if after a costly war, it isn’t doubt that all of the characters are desperate for reparations. The young girl bursts into tears and hugs her wide-eyes (and somewhat amnesiac) brother. As he chokes back tears, his sister latches around his neck in joy and sorrow.
The brother and sister wander slowly toward the entrance and in a splice to the next carrier of a match on action (albeit a continuity error, to the careful eye/although there may be a missing shot.) The shot is amazing, though, because arms from through the doorway off screen right, pull the “prodigal” son into the room.
Next shot, enter Austin Stoneman, the film’s Northern advocate (whether fictitious in name, his bourgeoisie attitude reflects a strain of much needed arrogance.) He hobbles into Lincoln’s study at the White House (although the only structure resembling the White House exterior is indeed the Cameron’s plantation.)
The fallacy of the film that must be examined carefully is the fact that later films like AMISTAD reveal nasty conditions aboard slave ships, the truth that is hard to believe is two-fold, so two wrongs make a right (slavery is evil, even though condoned to an extent in the Holy Bible.) Men that strive for power play rough on a warlike battleground and it seems as though racial prejudice is rekindling and in the hopes of exposing Griffith’s limitations in content, perhaps it will be a milestone and monument to an out of date practice. The risk that any writer takes with Griffith’s films is it is like opening a can of worms among the few egalitarians left in the world.
At least the film shows how a two sided created coin created a wake of chaos—though when Stoneman shakes hands with President Lincoln, he then takes a seat to discuss new business. Lincoln, in a relaxed, legs crossed stance—as a Dandy—looks Austin right in the eye to hear out his concerns (the room is empty except for the two men. Austin rises and waves his arm. Intertitle reads in quotes: “Their leaders must be hanged and their states treated as conquered provinces.”
The double standard detected in this statement made sense. Lincoln reiterates his position to Mr. Stoneman—intertitle reads, “’I shall deal with them as though they had never been away.’” A sentimental death warrant, as intimidating as it must have been for Stoneman to hear.
A big problem with this civil war is that if you side with the North, then—it is siding with the rich, especially after defeating the South.
Deadlocked in a glaring stance, Lincoln towers over Stoneman and the defeated Northerner sluggishly leaves the room, although quirkily exits in haste.
Griffith’s aristocratic two-sidedness is not accidental, but the mixed messages are confusing. With no policies in tow, he eschews all political correctness except in a right wing vein. Lincoln stands by his decision of acceptance to the reopening of the Southern frontier. Thus the South begins its reparations. First to exit the Cameron estate, in the next shot, is Ben and the elder slave behind him (to his right.) The whole family enters the house courtyard. The black-face man bickers about the shabby state of the now wilted hedge. The three Cameron women stay behind, as Ben leads the slave off camera.

The mother of the family puts up a sign that says “Boarding” connotative of a space to welcome guests. The next intertitle alludes to a fateful night “April 14th, 1865.” Next cut, a fade in on the Stoneman’s preparing to attend a play—knowing well ahead of time that their President will be attending—However, is not this scene scarier than hell, considering Lincoln had just reamed Austin Stoneman? (Author’s Note: However, as the film reaches its intense assassination climactic subplot—it is clear that only one lowly anarchist was the singular source of the plot to kill Lincoln—no other conspiracies fit the mold.)
While watching Spielberg’s MUNICH it seems that the zeitgeist is steering toward a more directive way of seeing. Take out the source of destruction, the war ends. BIRTH is the opposite because as Presidential peacemaking is what leads to a social disaster. However, in MUNICH, the Arabs are not familiar with Caliph to Caliph sword warfare, like the Quran speaks of, nor does it maintain moral values of lessening the body-count due to his siding with the re-emerging group of Hebrew in this caustic day and age.
In a pending document, do not forget that MUNICH is a harrowing masterpiece without flaw. A strategic way to end war, by bringing vengeance in a truthful way—without apologies until the death toll becomes so drastic, that Spielberg sustains his voice of the pros and cons of counter-terrorism.
So the Stoneman put on their regal/noble outfits and display an anticipatory, thrilling engagement, but little do they know what is about to be the last performance of the President’s viewing. (Author’s Note: In the Wikipedia article on Griffith, very little impetus is placed in the “web-zone” about the film’s factual essence, but rather places it in the “out of date” category—although is not the warning viable, indeed?)
In a linear fashion, to become more rigid Griffith fan-cult style, it is safe to say that all the facts that the filmmaker had to work with, were all he knew at the time—however, if he knew at the time—and, however, if he so rampantly sided with slaves before he studied the war, why would he honor his father’s war affliction? That is unknown, particularly when a freemason “sympathizer,” as himself would not give or budge, as to his Southern sided debauchery, until of course INTOLERANCE blew his wad and his career in big budget filmmaking. Of course, as stated, his next few cheaper films were a lot more nostalgic and less violent. They created far less controversy (talking now about post-BROKEN BLOSSOMS, ORPHANS OF THE STORM and AMERICA) until he rose again in the sound-era to defy all norms and again reinvent film language, as he did in progressive interests throughout. Left-wing politics ended Griffith’s career entirely because they feared his message and the costliness of it, which caused so many artists loyal to him to drop out of the industry, forever—which is a direct link to why many silent stars did not transition to sound—to defy the Griffith blacklist (Thomas Ince had some persuasion that fell to the wayside when sound came about, and Ernst Lubitsch is among the first to catch on to the way the sound era was meant to flow.)
Later, evidence of Griffith home-movies (‘as explicated in the Father of Film documentary—included in Griffith Masterworks Vol. 2 (DVD,’) that his isolated life was peaceful and Thoreauian, without distraction until he died peacefully of old-age—However, as Gish attests in the documentary, it was a loss she found extremely difficult to shoulder.
If anything is important about the Stoneman’s preparation for the play it is that Griffith is not as vindictive against the rich as taken for—at least, not yet. (Author’s Note: I do not believe that Griffith sided with the Klan but he obviously supported the hanging death penalty of freed slaves led to riot by Northerners.) Recently, I heard a theory, from my close friend Jarren Pope that had even the Northerners bought all the slaves, disaster would not have been stopped.—After such bad racism and prejudice, conditions were so painful, how could the slaves but revolt, and how else do you expect people to act if they do?
In a Nietzschean sense (at least in THE BIRTH OF TRAGEDY), an Apollonian animus (or war structure) must be combined with a Dionysian side (a fun and games dialectic), but when the Dionysian side has virtually no consequences, except perhaps a visit or two to Alcoholics Anonymous! However, existential philosophy would denounce the fact that death could never be anything, but symbolic—except, perhaps in extreme cases.
The good news about Griffith’s ‘no-holds barred’ attitude was that his ‘did not give a care’ persona is still used to the note in directorial strategies in film’s today. Although, formalists like George Melies, tended to adapt in a peaceful way to create the sci-fi and horror genre (shades of which are seen in Griffith’s AVENGING CONSCIENCE, so to speak—demon sequence and Fritz Lang’s A WOMAN IN THE MOON.) Again, pioneers of the formal neo-modern camp are atypical to the nature of evil, while adapting to the comfort zone—none of which will be of consequence in act two of this money-gimmick realism of BIRTH OF A NATION, which garnered so much box office that Griffith easily supported all his films with it. (Note: www.imdb.com appears to have limitations in its Griffith reservoir, because certain films remain to be discovered and correctly credited.) In the next few shots, a black face servant allows the eldest Stoneman son to enter the main room at Austin’s chateau (although, again, the exterior is never shown, as Griffith had to be choosy about his exteriors. The melodrama tends to be indoors and the war outdoors—not that it is not obvious that this is the way the director set it up.
The Stoneman men, confer their audiencehood in the following scene and, in the next series of shots , continue the processed ordinary sequence—through parallel shots and episodic causalities. So it goes according to the following intertitle that there is a gala in honor of Lee’s surrender—followed by an elliptical frame masking the brother and sister sitting for the show and author’s opinion no actress has more sex appeal then the eldest Stoneman girl (like some grown up Shirley Temple gone the Judy Garland route, like, in FORT APACHE.) Her dress is elegant with black lace and busty –skinny in the waist—Her brother is caped (which is no longer modest in our society.) On the left center Ms. Stoneman turns her back to reveal a tightly modeled outfit and she takes a seat.
The next shot is a replica of Ford’s Theater (having been there in Washington D.C. and seen in an actual likeness as seen here in the film.)
Through a small pair of binoculars, (remember now that classical structure is seamless, seeding one shot to another to an invisible aesthetic motivated by linearity—which, is not to say that BIRTH starts ‘en media res’ during a slave auction (far less caustic, though entirely disguised,) the forward action continues a pressing mission of disavowal and inertia. What if BIRTH had been a sound, color, widescreen film? Would it have exposed the klan rather than promoted them?
If there is an anti-slave message, it is hard to find it in BIRTH. While Ken Burns once quoted in a lecture that slavery is the curse of America (parenthetical reference at the Telluride Film Festival, 2001) this fact cannot be denied by today’s standards regardless of watered down or fired up socio-political statements.
If THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI helped to generate Nazism/anti-nazism, as Siegfried Kracauer explains heartily in a critical tome (sic), then why does BIRTH look so perfect and in the words of Hitchcock, remains “’a bit violent…but it is all there, isn’t it?’” in so many words.
The play begins to assemble on stage and in the next cut, Ms. Stoneman is seen clapping in jubilance. The old captain of Austin Stoneman’s kin folds his arms to watch the inevitable occur in terms of excellent theater production values and the only thing that separates it from self-reflexivity is that the play develops in a non-caustic way.
In the presence of the great stage show (meticulously reenacted in a passionate theatricality, the domestic melodrama (which may or may not have been “Our American Cousin,” perhaps unbeknownst to Griffith at the time.) Yet, the woman in the play gives a fiery performance in front of what appears to be a proscenium and in the background, the interesting and seductive woman plays out her emotion with her family all around.
Switch to high angle camera, left stage filming the audience to the right and the foreground right center (also including the balcony configuration.) The lead actress in the play walks out of the proscenium (the fourth wall that dissipates reality from fantasy) and she attempts to collect a bouquet of flowers from the orchestra—a fan cult the actress would never deny.

Next intertitle reads “Time 8:30” marking the hour, in which, Lincoln arrives at the play. Next shot is an ascension up the stairs to the reserved balcony seats for American royalty. Up the stairs with kind and powerful guards, the president and his wife (although the lady comes first for etiquette)—all (in the next shot) present themselves in the most advantageous seat in the house. Crosscut back to the interior of the room behind the balcony tier and Lincoln removes his hat and jacket, handing them to an usher.
Lincoln retreats behind the curtain (right frame) and the usher partially follows. The whole crew is in the balcony—smiling (other than Lincoln who looks exhausted as all get out.) The Stoneman’s are alight with pleasure in the next cut, upon recognizing the presence of their war hero leader. In fact, in the tight framing of Stoneman brother and sister, it is clear that the audience (much like the audience watching the film) applauds the presence of their great leader, in fact, to the point of a standing ovation (if Lincoln is there, as the next shot from behind the crowd insinuates,) which will always stand and applaud for greatness.
Lincoln and family stand in the seat box to honor their followers from the North; Lincoln gives a slight head nod, as though a demigod—glorified by steep praise from the right and left—Lincoln takes a seat without any sign of nervousness—absolute strength. Outside the boxed seats, the man on bodyguard post takes a chair and moves it close to the door jovially, expecting a smooth ship.
The play from a high up position, a dream-like prism of museum-like accuracy, which makes it hard to believe that the 2nd film half (The Reconstruction) is at all phony—though, it entirely is. If anything the movie completely forgets that there was an underground railroad that shuffled Southern slaves to the North to get them out of bondage. Instead this film discusses Northern and Southern Africans trying to kill white people, all realized and related to the fact that the Africans were getting revenge for the death of Lincoln!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: In a Pre-BIRTH feature, Giuseppe Di Riguero’s INFERNO is reviewed closely. The film takes you to the ins and outs of the depths of yourself. Understand that hell is a horrible place for the just and unjust—If all are created equal, than l have an equal chance to examine this Biblical epic into a roadshow spectacle that engenders a milieu of isolated disasters—True in form and content to Dante’s base source of wisdom and hilarity to the point of comedic hyperbole—A distortion of the after-life—especially considering Mohammed is still there—(a man that sought only redemption through various old scriptures.) However, the scare tactics in this Italian Spectacle from 1911 (only two years after Griffith’s own theatrical review), which absolutely every earlier silent film, except for Melies A TRIP TO THE MOON among his other works. INFERNO, like many earlier silent films, pays all the price for the sins of the world. Beatrice flies, Dante and Virgil get lost in Hades, another portal, leading to the demon hordes near the city of DIS—You’ll never believe who is waiting for you at the film’s end.

In Griffith’s world there is a creative order of the species. Lincoln is a flawless leader watching over his crowd like the Owl of Minerva (see also Hegel on how the spirit of the Times moves progression through a spirit of the Earth)—Then, if harm comes to the Earth the Times will also be harmed beyond repair.) The entire crowd looks up at their master of ceremonies and wave a white flag in honor, submission and surrender to their valiant idol and icon, Abraham Lincoln.
Next shot: The play continues (from a shot set-up in front of the proscenium to capture as naturalistic as possible, the process, as it occurred. In a post-structural stance, nothing can be read into about the connection between the play and the assassination. In fact, the play was user friendly, as is seen and shown. The next intertitle extrapolates a major flaw in any conspiracy theory for a “view of the play,” then someone must have been watching for any such opening…
The spectrum of the range of action (during the stage play) and drama is still at a populous perspective of sheer romantic notions of a North before the war (or during/or after to include all three ghosts of Dickens.) The “bodyguard” stands and exits the room taking a chair with. In the next few shots an elliptical (circular spotlight effect through masking the lens with a moving filter on a very sensitive to light ‘f-stop’ to pick up grainy, though realistic detail with meticulous style.
‘f-stop—LIGHT BALANCE ON A CAMERA (see also IRIS)’
Robert E Lee attends the gathering, seated in another box, in no way insinuating that he knows the unfolding plot (although he may or may not have read the script—unless Griffith really did keep his 300 page script in his head and not reveal how the story actually went until it was time for that scene—George Lucas and Woody Allen and Spike Lee all use that same method today—then again, Lee is a Micheuaxian upon his discovery of multiple narratives in a tighter space with as much controversy, as Maestro Griffith himself.) Intertitle reads, “10:13 Act III, Scene 2.” That only the Act is used for the Roman Numeral effect is of interest because the film BIRTH only has 2 Acts and Act One is still not over.
(Author’s Note: Herein and through all his films there is not a shred of anti-Semitism, Nazism or other slander sent by those jealous of Griffith’s power. Later, in Act II the whole thing becomes an “anti-race” orgy of blaxploitation.)
Framed by another picturesque ellipsis is the bottom right and center top portions of the frame that distribute attention to the topmost seats and those in the audience that seemingly cannot take their eyes off of the President.
Back in the audience, the Stoneman’s never lovelier (as though involved in the higher class publicity stunt that is the film’s Golden Calf nature to attract attention to itself is some mad dream of a history lesson. After the pleasant array of attractive characters placated by decadence, the next title names the name of America’s #1 Shit List of an important assassin that created tyranny, chaos and a whole barrage of lacks in freedoms that all carry the burden of around the world. Booth, the man renounced here, should have cooled off the demons that fueled him. Like a still photograph of the insanity filled in Booth’s heart is detected buy the evil within the heart’s of men—Next shot placid, yet happy, scholastics that are the Camerons, enjoying the play too much to notice the sinister show within the show. Ms. Stoneman’s sexual prowess oozes out of the scene without a caricuraturization found in today’s history lesson.
John Wilkes Booth is also displayed in the next cut again, hand in shirt, reaching for a gun in his shirt—a good moral lesson for all that really think guns are necessary outside of battleground warfare—or necessary at all. From a grounded angle the lighting is distanced to examine the President’s final moments in life (aka. The day the American Political Body died, at least until now in 2009.) Wilkes still framed in a moving picture holds his hand in his shirt and the play goes on, producing an effect of theatrical dissonance (unlike Mizoguchi’s OSAKA ELEGY, which contains a plot important Banruku (sic) self-reflexive allegory— a Griffith practitioner, although, like Truffaut after him, his plays within the play soothed the idea into acceptability—JULES AND JIM by Truffaut contains a lyrical music number that takes out the pain of breaking up with whole-hearted lovers.)
Lincoln, alone now in his boxed seat (boxed seat to the left completely distracted by the searing romance of the play) and Then Wilkes Booth against the harrowing contrast of pleasantness and the man most feared, suggesting that the fear should have been juxtaposed to Lincoln rather than the world’s most evil man to date. And if any suggestion to religion is made in later film’s is aspired to by Lincoln to take a bullet than why didn’t God or the devil steady the hand—(was it because Lincoln proved he was always ready to sacrifice and martyr himself for both sides of the cause for union among the states (to work in tandem with the federal gov’t without fear of death?)
Next, Wilkes Booth aims his head in a soldier stance, gun now out in the open (revealed to be in the room in which the bodyguard abandoned.)
Close-up Insert on the Booth’s hand cocking the gun preparing it to fire—shocking for anyone’s sensibilities. Booth slowly enters the boxed seats to (MATCH ON ACTION) his sneaky undetected movement to approach the man from the shadows—Cut to the play—the woman actress is chased off by an angry man. In the very next shot, the insanity ensues when, in graphic detail the President takes an explosive bullet to the back of his head, intentionally oppressing the notion of assassination (until the film became only associated with private schools—University of Southern California is in regards to this dualist perspective of how important graduate curriculum teaches the trained eye to find the pros and cons of every film.)
And as history is replete with errors, this is the one historical fact that has never been overlooked up until the double assassination of the Kennedy boys (far more sinister, considering all subsequent administrations have suppressed the details until further notice.
Here all sentiment is spared, Lincoln is eliminated in a repugnant way, keeling over after the bullet blast, Booth clambers out of the box to take his infamous dive onto the stage of Ford’s theater breaking a leg (perhaps where the superstitious term “break a leg” comes into play.) As in the near birds-eye perspective, Booth stumbles around and regains his composure to shake his fist at God and the World explaining in a shout (intertitle reads, “sic simper tyrannis!”—translation loosely in Latin, “Always without the tyrant!”) The only way to cynicize this statement is to take antecendentary Latin to the literal interpretation: There isn’t always a tyrant, which means that Booth was glad he signed his own death warrant, whether the crowd had the “holy” spirit of discernment of Latin phraseology or not.
In every sense of the word Booth is ‘Unforgiven’ (this is actually a reiteration in the most important Western made in a long time—UNFORGIVEN by Clint Eastwood.) It follows the standard of Griffith but breaks free into a liberal archetypal “Christ-structure,” sensibility to prove that no practitioner of evil is vindicated, unless Eastwood’s dark side defeats the darker side of humanity entirely. The message in UNFORGIVEN is anti- and pro-gun, when the gunman atones via a merciful killing in a responsible solution to violence. Would the problem have been solved sooner had an ideal environment of conquering guns with target practice only at the undead A la Stephen King’s GUNSLINGER, which came out in best seller book lists before UNFORGIVEN.
Griffith cashes in on causalities and casualties, whereas Eastwood atones for his mistakes via the dark side of reducing illogical negativism to the fall of Western Civilization in a Grand Narrative that has reaffirmed the values of all Western frontiers for eternity. However, the title alone UNFORGIVEN sheds light on Americana as a stranglehold on the Western media’s values, interpreted loosely on how we cannot forgive ways that are against our values entirely. (*No support of assassinations will be found in America and many films prove this.) If our society makes friends with old morals, rather than allowing for a decaying sense of anger, then the anger will cease and the enemy will win!
However, if a tyrant is blamed for the projected tyranny that he is himself enduring for whatever reason, will tyranny never cease? In YOUNG MR. LINCOLN many Fordian right-wing critics see no scare factor in Ford’s preservation of a didactic (teaching) and auto-didactic (self-teaching) hero that suffered the loss of his first wife, but broke up a riot by stating that people do things in a crowd that they wouldn’t do alone.
Internally, is there forgiveness for the man that blew up the building in Oklahoma, and externally is there forgiveness for the Ayatollah even in the wake of his anti-American hatred propaganda. Walk away from hate and other forms of it may consume all. Hate the hater and it is damned if you do/damned if you don’t situation. Fear tactics, as BIRTH stunningly presents in the assassination sequence encourage the populous to redeem Lincoln (although he has done no wrong.) If his stream of life entered the resurrection phase for his own balls-out perspective, then perhaps enough believers in left-wing revisionist history will take action of their own (like the Disneyland Hall of Presidents, which all but brings the man back to life—again, without fear tactics, still humanistically flawed in idol-worship of the martyred man.)
However, if the magic of cinema, and now with its ancillary business rights (though big businesses associated with the quest for greed are falling apart due to President Obama’s understanding of the lower classes frustration against corporate money schemes. Yet, it seems since the days of President Bush, many more peace talks have been made in the NEW ADMINISTRATION with everyone, including big business, which makes up for any short-coming, which, with these men in office, it is hard to find. For example, Dr. Joseph Biden is currently adapting to the new era of diplomacy among Vice Presidents in order to resolve current crises, which seem to be diminishing all around in 2009, already.
The problem here is that when freedom is harmed, America swoops in to clean up the mess and is blamed for everything to ease the conscience of the guiltier party. Therefore, Booth may not wind up in hell, but he always remains unforgiven because assassinations still occur for entirely irrational reasons. (Author’s Note: The TV show THE WHITEST KIDS YOU KNOW have attempted several failed attempts to revise and laugh away the death of President Lincoln—But can assassins be laughed away? Perhaps if Griffith had shown Booth’s death the way it happened in history—as he was chased down and burned in a barn--or perhaps if evil men like John Wilkes Booth had never been born—than the lamentations of Americana would have ceased long ago.
Racial hatred will perhaps be eliminated, as the tension itself is further alleviated democratically.
To soften the blow delivered by Booth, movie aficionados like Michael Moore have steeped America in a guilt crisis for owning guns (see all that is BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE, a decent movie, however, willingly forgets to point out that the young killers were entirely illiterate because they did not understand the trained mind of a peaceful thinker, like the always accused Nietzsche, who would never take part in murder, whether or not rage was exposed.
Let us take the Kierkegaardian approach to Griffith, which is the “FORREST GUMP” approach or, sometimes, “SHIT HAPPENS” and no one can be blamed. Take, for an example, the Hebraic Text of JOB as a lesson that there are crimes that no one (Devil, God, Friends and/or Family) can be blamed for due to the accidental randomness of a Darwinian non-causal universe. Yet, damage was done, damage fails to revise damage and the cost is almost always war (see also Vietnam and Kennedy.)
To freestyle through a reckless mode of pre-classic, classic and post-classic codes, as are merged in Griffith’s plan to bring audiences together, he taught that assassination goes beyond heresy, beyond hate and beyond insanity. Thus, there are events that are not meaningless, which must admittedly someday become meaningless, to be recognized as landmarks.
In terms of Eastwood’s UNFORGIVEN, the categorical imperative of timely differences between modes of representation between ways of the past and ways of the future, Eastwood stars with Morgan Freeman and they do not sell out to any respective courtesies except to defeat an evil culture created by a lack of values in gun-play. When it comes to a head in the ultimate showdown—nothing is left but the sacrifice Eastwood gave to exterminate evil, forevermore.
On a side note, Robert Bresson’s AU HASARD BALTHAZAR is a pro-animistic film that sacrifices a burro in order to prevent violence to animals, which as we all know has trained hunters to kill only animals that are hostile to us—like a grizzly (see only LEGENDS OF THE FALL.)
Yet, taken as postmodern, even time travel fails to teach us the lesson, as to why Lincoln was killed—The South and North have never united in shouldering the guilt of his death—but because it was one victimizer—he takes all the blame.
Anyway, in the “Wagnerian” sense of additions over subtractions, only constructive criticism will heal the Lincoln wound, which Griffith completely betrays in his second act for the sake of preserving a half-truth, that the death penalty for all African-Americans should be instigated over the death of a young white girl. Of course, if counter-hegemony is painful, does it have a place in the spectrum of an utopia—unless, it is a memorial to the death of old ways? Would Griffith have given his life for Lincoln, perhaps only symbolically in a “freemasonic” paradigm etc. Does right-wing revisionism justify left-wing hypocrisy? All politics become culturally fascistic on the reversal of historical events that actually center and create a bottom to the bottomless pit of social impositions and propaganda.
Interestingly enough, Vertov’s experiment in MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA deemphasizes the warlord side of propaganda and focuses on human issues. Life and Death, Flight and Travel, Olympics and Recreation, no war zones in sight (though in the midst of war). Griffith eschews humanism to an extent, so focused on the ball game of cinematic style that he forgot about his own power and oppositional readings that French Liberal Critics have had a heyday with before and since. Although, it is becoming clearer that no critic would defy BIRTH just to recreate its anti-structuralist course of seamless precedents.
Hopefully the battle to justify or condemn Griffith will end over the confirmation of Griffith’s decision to choose art over ethics and continually redefine style and form (as it did for even Vertov and Eisenstein on the Russian side—especially for Pudovkin’s linkage mode of editing. Of course, all films flow from BIRTH, or Feuillade’s LES VAMPIRES and the new movement of African American film entirely owes itself to Micheaux’s WITHIN OUR GATES.
Affirming historical facts can be as deadly as the witness to the death of hero’s, because a blathering idiot could see the film and in a feat of indifferent anarchy would eliminate a peace-maker to fulfill continuity of what is believed to be a “just-war.” War is no longer ‘just’ when leaders become martyrs and the world is just behind being thrown into War, Plague, Famine and Deadly Chaos.
Of course, writing about ‘war’ is scary enough due to its “Pandora’s Box” effect of war perpetuation. Now that the intent of the world has shifted to end racism, end classicism and end sexism, and maybe to solidify ‘religious tolerance,’ (a nice effect that all four would have,) there is no safe approach to the Griffith dilemma, at least in BIRTH, unless it is a total testament in a Sartre sense of what not to do when caught in a tidal wave of burdens—even when it is to meet audience demands. Plato, the Ancient Greek philosopher, discusses this very problem with “ILIAD” in Republic Book X.
In the scenes to follow, the devastating wake of Lincoln’s death are about to follow.
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Having experienced the loss of my friend Matt McAllister in the eleventh grade, in a trailer fire that could have taken my own life had the timing been different, has made me all too aware of the problem of pain and how it stirs up hatred within—and vengeance is the Lord’s only, when does he ever require to act out our emotions? In the recent fire at Universal Studios a question comes up, when does the party stop and the mourning end to bring about total “Messianic,” Peace on Earth. Must we die to prevent further death or must we live to promote more life—I choose the latter.)
Fear begets fear and peace begets peace, but as my mentor Jon Wagner at CALARTS explains, in not so many words, is that the hell we have all been through, in a way, disproves the right to believe in God altogether, because a diviner of Good Power would never allow evil, right?
The Griffith formula falls apart after Lincoln’s death and demolishes the right of auteurisms by transgressing the absolute power granted by only one person, when ethics are bravely employed. Ethics are so thrown out the window that the rest of the movie is almost impossible to watch and if INTOLERANCE and BROKEN BLOSSOMS attempt to end genderism and racism, then why is always one value forsaken for another—the endless railing Griffith stakes against classism in BIRTH (which, John Ford later defied in the capital enterprise that is his “IRON-HORSE” silent feature—a film that defines the national allegory of cultural imperialism at the cost of innocent and not so innocent Native Americans.)
Now that censorship has distorted itself to disband the lie of “1984’s Orwellian Thought Crime dilemma,” no one dares to give a history lesson that goes against the Hegelian lie that always impresses the notion that good will overcome evil. Hegel’s stance remains, but falls short of the modern agenda to catch a lie and disseminate it in a slower process than usual, to defy the quick-fix economical policies perpetuated by the Right and Left to protect businessmen (albeit, they are sometimes found in theft)—And, to recall correctly, producers of Hollywood’s Golden Age were the perpetrators of the end of directors as auteur, always running to the Griffith dilemma, as their straw man. Will Hollywood learn a lesson or will they look back and laugh? The left-wing and right-wing agree that a Presidential assassination is never a laughing matter until the complete Postmodern agenda of dissociation with signs and signifiers are meaningless.
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: After borrowing a loot of books from CalArts without checking them out—a library crime, I hope to make up for—I have also noticed a pattern among Foreign filmmakers to train out all Griffithian patterns that have stunted the growth of the ideological camp of filmmaking, a theory that has worked and also back-fired in so many ways that are not even funny.)
Does misogyny come at the cost of racism? Does classism come at the cost of misogyny? All of these questions do not erase the pain the American world still feels over Lincoln’s death! And how dear Griffith does the portrayal of war end war. Most likely it perpetuates it, in a total “Working Class Hero” sense of anti-aristocracy a la Jon Lennon.
Rigid BEATLEMANIA and its post-beatlemania spheres take precedence always in the anglo-philia of modernity—although, let it be known that early Beatlemania was a bit of a mirror image of a Chuck Berry attitude.
(Author’s Note: Let me debunk the producer as enemy theory now because the studio system rose and many stars became property under contract, there is no other system—Other than the Hindu Bollywood system that has produced and invigorated a response to love, joy and hope, as a nominal defense against hate, lack and destruction. Which begs yet another question: Did Griffith hate the industry he created, did it hate him, or did anyone really give a fuck? That is unknown by even today’s antiquated philosophies (even by a philosophy junky standard.) In the end, the message Griffith promotes is that no one wins in war-time, no matter how you play the game. Also, keep in mind that this current generation of shot analysis all comes from David Shephard’s definitive version before other attempts on further restoration are made on this old legend.)
If the root of Manichean thinking, as was in the days of Christian Empires that sought to devour Ottoman governments, then perhaps this is the root judgment against the African race that has always been at stake!
Fade Out—Intertitle reads: “Stoneman told of the assassination;” Which is followed by bedlam in the Stoneman estate library where chaos ensues, although certain stereotypes act ambiguously—everyone is in shock and the vindication of the Stoneman’s in the supposed overthrow of the gov’t is at hand. They are all vigorously outraged, knowing that the South will blame them—(however, do they not blame the South?)
The look in Austin Stoneman’s eyes is a blank expression of an “I told you so,” whisper toward Lincoln’s progressive abundance. Cut to, the women’s quarters of the Stoneman’s estated home-stead, where the women mourn what they have seen to the point of panic, albeit a sense of denial is precedent.
However, the Stoneman’s stand strong in their convictions, knowing that the torch carried by the Republic has been passed onto the Democratic North, but by what means? As the half-breed lover/maid explains to Austin, “You are now the greatest power in America,” an ideal flattened by freedom fighters Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X that were both also martyred in waves of conspiracies. Sidling up to her lover is the power starving mulatto woman, no longer a villain, but still plainly a seductive seducer fallen to the whims of power’s aphrodisiac.
Next intertitle: “The news is received in the South.” A different perspective here, immediately juxtaposed by a more shocked and less prideful stance—The family and boarders gather around the literate Cameron father who passes around the paper to breed a total devastation upon gathering the cost that it will take to make up for the dead hero. CLOSE UP Insert on the article, which is a reminder that even then, the media shifted blame to soften the blow, in this case by claiming that there was another plot to take the life of the Secretary but the fine print reminds the viewer that is quick to read that flags went “half-mast” that very day.
The Cameron family admits that they have lost their best friend and are now entering a world of pain. Fear and trembling is all that is viewed by the father, contagiously spreading to his family members. What will this mean for the future of the South?
“END OF PART ONE”

The second part of Birth is the “Reconstruction,” not suitable for the squeamish, or any others that do not wish to glamorize excessive racism, which has only just begun. The intertitle dividing the sections, ends with the sentence that is never truer, “The blight of war does not end when hostilities cease.” However, in what way does this impose the earlier antiwar sentiments?
A determined truth is that Griffith was and is in the realist camp, at least while directing BIRTH OF A NATION. There may be a botched history lesson coming soon to theaters, but these days of financial woe remain a fun and games, pulp and cult, mid-range of snowball effect money schemes (a decent goal of Hollywood forever and always.)
If time is allowable to bend backwards, don’t forget that the longest feature masterworks up to a point were and are total formalist approaches, with many effects beguiling audiences today (how did they create the ‘well of souls’ sequence in the first and second levels of Italian made, 1911, INFERNO?) Notice, too that early Fritz Lang, in the German Expressionistic vein, is obsessed with formalism, NIBELUNGEN part I. and II. are among all the greatest fantasies in existence.
Griffith’s friend Douglas Fairbanks was (as is Tom Cruise today) the world’s most versatile role changer (ZORRO being a low-tech realism with Stunt work, THIEF OF BAGHDAD, a more special effects driven star vehicle. Special effects are associated with formalism, the unmediated camera for realism and stunt work, erotic love making and in today’s age, the use of foul language are integral to the in between centered aesthetic that is predated to the origins of early cinema, even after Griffith retired (or was he ready to give up on ‘film’ because he dried up his money supply on his final film THE STRUGGLE?)
Psychology and Metaphysics are collapsed in BIRTH OF A NATION due to its enlightenment in the frontier that are one solution to a master plan.
Before embarking on the RECONSTRUCTION, here is an outline of Aristotle’s Point of View, which informs Griffith’s METAPHYSICS to a note:
ACT ONE
A. In an Aristotelian paradigm, conclusive evidence leads to four key representatives of aesthetic categories, which infuse to release artistic impetus (as produced by an artwork of such.)
1. Peripataesis—Greek for energy, produced by walking long distances briskly.
2. Kinesis—Energy produced in a theatrical venue, which changes up a response from either player or audience (in a positive or negative way—preferably both in an arena of non-censorship.)
ACT TWO
3. Mimesis—an artificial and intellectual representation of a realistic event (albeit too realistic would transgress the rules of ‘mythos’ and ‘imagos’—terms built upon formality, within reality)—
4. Catharsis—The absolution of feeling after seeing a violent or erotic event that effects you critically in order to get it out of your system, forever.
(With recommendations that the adherence of Classical Art in terms of unabashed, unrestrained copycat crimes to fall on the sexual side, as long as they are harmless—upon intense viewings of violence, pacificism rules—or as Jesus Christ would say, “Blessed are the peacemakers—“
FADE OUT and then the next intertitle reads that the Civil War aftermath from here on out, “is not meant to reflect on any race or people today.” Thus, the box office schemata is back in play. Woodrow Wilson is quoted in a long statement about his own historical lesson on the South—a long winded sermon about his intense racism (disproving that the audiences of 1915 were egalitarians.)
In Austin Stoneman’s study, his whole crew of politicians and servants dandy about the room with cautious eyes peering from the men in the background. Austin takes a drink and his half-bred lover hostess brings important men into the library.
Next event to occur is the entering of a very important character, the “protégé” of Austin Stoneman, Silas Lynch that enters the opulent settings comforted to see African American house servants, although he is not a slave.
The house servants bow to Silas, who is dolled up in black and kisses the hand of the now made over African-American maid. His hand points to screen left, as though sending Griffith a cue to throw the cut into the next appearance of Austin Stoneman’s busy library. In a series of short cuts—a back and forth tug of war exists in the polar oppositions that are about to be united in a single frame (the house library. To interrupt the meeting and announce Silas Lynch’s arrival, the maid graciously gets Austin Stoneman’s attention. Meanwhile, in the lobby, Silas appears slightly nervous, but not entirely afraid of the crowd he is about to approach. The half-bred maid returns to Silas and points to the room to validate his acceptable presence among the elite.
When worlds collide and Silas finally approaches, Austin Stoneman, Mr. Lynch bows to kiss Austin’s hand, not knowing that he must adapt to American customs, which in the next cut, illustrates Austin’s unbudging anti-racist policy—Still in a reverse shot (framed not from an angle, but still entirely inside the square box of symmetry—Silas Lynch’s overthankfulness is evident by his humble bowing before a Mr. Stoneman that reconfirms that it is no longer necessary to submit to a higher power, if and when the “all men are created equal,” clause in Americana is to be fulfilled.
In business practices, utility and its inevitable complacency have white washed public spectacle to the point of death. Ironing out problems may lead to a kind ideology, but only by giving the people what they will want, need and cherish, is the only way to please ethical business practitioners. Silas Lynch knows not how to react in front of the White superpowers of the Northern alliance. Griffith’s take no prisoners—win one for the team attitude is still a grim approach to generating press in a never-ending money-ploy—impress the people, make a quick buck—please the people with important historical lessons and time will heal the wound--(Still it is worrying that BIRTH OF A NATION will someday be vanquished from boutique cinephiliac stores—or any limitations in advancing a BIRTH collector’s piece—I cannot wait for the BLURAY HI-DEF version, myself.)
To reiterate a money plan for a centrist like Griffith, risks are taken, risks are ignored, and gangbusters at the box-office remains. However, any time money, fame or power enters the equation of art hanging out in one of the spheres for too long, corruption is a factor. In CITIZEN KANE, for instance, in an unforgettable scene Welles states as C.F. Kane, “I always gagged on that silver spoon.” It is his moment of defeat that he started off as a progressive populist and became a legend that no one could ever safely follow in the footsteps of.
Still, imagine what a nightmare each Production call sheet must have been on a movie of such scale.
In the beginning credits of the film, admit that Griffith is Producer and Cowriter, along with Frank E. Woods. To date, not much is discussed, in a story line this out of control. When people decimated their own brothers and friends over slavery, Lincoln’s assassination is presented without caution. When the sly money ploy of presenting the harsh aftermath of war’s reblossoming and ballooning into a chaos film, a film without apology; No rules and all bets are off. The story packs such a punch that all other films are lost in its wave. Whatever Civil War outfits have been made, none can topple the tower of Griffith. David Lean and Stanley Kubrick came close. Bresson and Hitchcock are equals with him, but they are only the two that could be compared (albeit, not as powerful as the break neck pace of D.W. Griffith and his massive cast and crew.)
(Whoever was allowed into Griffith’s inner circle was blessed to know him and learn his cinematic prowess. Interesting that John Ford and Erich von Stroheim along with the countless others they’ve effected up until the postmodern era when George Lucas and Stephen Spielberg carried the torch. In those days, nothing was forbidden to film, censorship’s anti-plea became so buried in a wave of misallocated guilt. Across the cinemaverse, no one has outdone Griffith, his genre changing body of work, his sustained impressions imposing over every image and frame of exploding emulsifiers creating processed footage of film, suspending reality or disbelief and spreading lies and hypocrisy about a disenfranchised nation of Africans.)
However, it is the rock that all cinema has been modeled after ever since. Orson Welles partakes in the Renoir camp of poetics in film. Yet, there may be a combative side of other countries to defy the allegations that the orchestrated Witch Hunt of the Klan. Griffith had a bring everything in and leave nothing out approach so much so that he had to film a passion play segment to his following film INTOLERANCE to atone for his sins.
Religion is film these days and nowhere else can you find another GENESIS chapter of film.
Yet, is it not true that in Genesis, it is human error that is punished and God is meanwhile left to pick up the pieces. Under the guise of religion, so much bloodshed has been overdone in the media, so that people are able to ascertain the violence that exists in the World. However, wars are not necessarily fought over anything other than money, or women, or power. Sheer power to conquer and colonize nations, idealized by past historical American figures. Christopher Columbus would have loved to see this movie, because dominion of the unconquered is what it seeks. If there were ever a more necessary time to fend off racism among those that suffered more or less.
In the film, at this phase in the Northernists headquarters—hardly any tension between the opposite race is felt, in fact, getting to know each other was to them, as important as re-enfranchising the sufferers, (although duly note that African-Americans were at least confined to a different state of registry. The scenes go on to meld together an ongoing, unheard dialogue considering a policy to keep things safe at the expense of equal rights has been at stake all along and these friendly gatherings (like attending a film) changed the world’s policies entirely.
What with the recent death of the mysterious Michael Jackson, race relations are more even by democratic media standards and practices. All the evidence may never be in to what actually happened to the downcast, outcast of society. In a further along shot, the half-bred maid unfurls her fan and listens in on the men’s gathering (injunctive with the previous spot of manipulated, though realist space.)
(Author’s Note: Odd that if the film grew among word of mouth, good reviews and a large reward of box-office, the Klan has all but gone underground after the government banned them.)
Some kind of peaceful resolve is complete in the library/study with powerful men.
Also, interesting that the film has been lambasted for its racism, whereas the Holy Bible is far more ‘xenophobic’ (at least until Christ arrives on the scene,) in sections, without the intent of perpetuating war or death, still not leaving those inevitable in human life.
After a disgustingly worded intertitle, not to be defended here, the next shot is of a seated Austin Stoneman discussing a political scheme with Silas Lynch. As Silas goes to leave, Lillian Gish’s Elsie Stoneman enters again and is bowed to by Lynch. Her dress is gorgeous and her basket of flowers is a nice commodifier of a set prop. In the next foreboding shot, Silas Lynch casts a lustful gaze immediately after meeting her (a star driven movie typically has the problem of misogyny at its core—this film is unafraid to reveal anti-feminist equality in vile virulence.
Anyway, the meeting between Mr. Lynch and Ms. Stoneman is key. The implications of the last name Lynch is quite frightful in context of the lynch mob later in the movie. Stoneman is a name that is likely related to the masons that fought for the North. When they meet, they do not understand each other. Lynch has an impulse toward the woman, but she does not become uncomfortable at Lynch’s overbearing gaze. In fact, Ms. Stoneman is a bit flirtatious in response to Lynch’s shy awkwardness. Lynch waves and exits through a door screen right (now the camera is in a mid-range theatrical realist position.) Austin Stoneman gains comfort in his already tiresome process of authoritative leadership and his daughter fawns to his side to comfort her weary old man. Next, a very strange occurrence sets of events that are more than meets the eye. Intertitle reads that Lynch’s “headquarters” are in Piedmont. A nicely composed shot manufactures a horse drawn coach that Silas Lynch appears to proudly occupy.
In a tight splice—a cut is seen of Lynch entering a room, cross cut to another space and time (in a thematic montage structure.) In this shot, Mr. Lynch takes flack from old slaves, appearing dangerously rich to them.
Apparently slavery is far from over (even though abolitionism prevailed in the war.) The next shot is of African Americans, working the crops in Piedmont’s acreage. Splice back to Silas and company that continue to remain very hoighty toighty in a crowd of celebration and hard work, a feeling that colonization is fading—which is interesting because the Southern states are atypical to the terms of colonization, at least compared to the North. Silas and his lackey turn their back to the camera, walking toward the background and a cut reveals that they (as well as the audience) can see a dance number—without insurance of whether it is a dance forced by the man and why in the world is an African American pictured eating watermelon? (So stereotypes begin to form again at this point.) Admittedly, the dancing that goes on here, while racist, is a hell of a good entertainment and a good diversion, for now.
Next cut, S. Lynch comes upon the crop worker ex-slaves and implores the workers to take a break and come to the “dance party,” or at least to take off work. The dance goes on and the workers leave their post. Silas continues the marching forward action, overseeing the voting process—as though African Americans in the South cannot read or even understand how to vote.
An important sign-post, in the voting sequence reads “Forty Acres and a Mule” (a moniker the legendary Spike Lee still uses in a recontextualized way for his production company.) The problem with the 40 Acres and a Mule theorem is that there were strings attached and as usual, nobody got what they were promised. As verified later in the film, (although reality has taken an oppositional course—to an extent,) the carpetbaggers buy up land to constantly drain Southern money in the guise of anti-slavery.
In fact, even the next intertitle explains, “The charity of the generous North misused to delude the ignorant.” A loaded statement, but full of partial truths. If house slaves were allowed to read the Bible (historical fact), then would not they have spread words orally among the field slaves? And then how could they have been ignorant?
Anyway, in the next scene there exists a strange ambiguity among the picturesque details that penetrate an idealistic dystopic plot. The African-Americans are collecting reparations at some kind of a booth that is conditionalizing recompense for their suffering, although their excitement is overblown—in a conditioned response fashion—not unlike Mark Twain’s stereoscopic disenfranchisement of the disenfranchised. After collecting many items—An African-American collects a tophat and allows the next member of his race to collect, as though he has just hit the lottery.
Perhaps the transition from African to African American induced position (and then to a white-washed American, without any connections to Africa, a total sin if asked by this author), is not without a money bribe—to gain impetus among the losing race and restore them to instant gratification (as if this will not impede their nature/nurture progress.)
Still, money produces excitement no matter who you are. Next scene, Silas Lynch, (decked out in tophat and tails) walks in front of the Cameron plantation and coming his way is a group of African-American soldiers, which begs the question: how were they ever bamboozled into joining the Army? Was the G.I. Bill to provide free college already in place? (And would they not have been forced into a military college, regardless?)
Strange as it may seem, Silas Lynch vanishes offscreen and as Ben Cameron and his little sister begin to journey onto the street, the African-American military (walking screen, top left to screen bottom left) slows down their normal pitched gait. The army gives them orders (along the lines of how they are impeding progress) and then the Army marches on before the Cameron’s are able to close the gate. This is the first in a series of insults that wind up the Cameron’s intense, annoyed anger.
Silas Lynch enters from the rear of the Army (appearing like Wile E. Coyote, like out of nowhere) and he antagonizes Ben Cameron even more by telling him—as the intertitle reads—that “the sidewalk belongs to us as much as it does to you…” If mimicry of the once rich and salvageable South does not implore a violent response from reverse racism, perhaps the suppressed will of the angry Ben Cameron is a stepping stone in Griffith’s master plan—(to explain why the Klan rose as a Machiavellian “any means necessary” fascist engenderment code that broke free in the last few years of a newfound Religious Tolerance regime in and among the Barack Obama Presidential Victory, 2008.)—Still if overt racial hatred is placed under a microscope—camps will split and return to their rightful place until there are peace talks that relate to everyone (an Anti-Platonic democratic agenda, no less.) So, Ben and his sister look back in Anger and continue up the sidewalk, as though they have not been harassed.
The chain reaction of causal determinants regresses further when Austin Stoneman’s sickness carries him out of his office to none other than “South Carolina.” In the next image, Austin prepares to leave the roost and is confronted by his family (on the mid-frame is Elsie and behind is the eldest Cameron boy. They are pensive, apprehensive, but mostly well-pleased with anything that can fixate their father’s pneumonia like symptoms to restore his health.
Upon further analyzation of the shot—the physician’s recommendations to move and change locales is hardly a problem considering that Northern leadership in the South is inevitable. Silas Lynch has already proven that he is unable to lead on his own—or, at least, in a less caustic environment that he has felt was important as an act of restitution, revenge and a Descartesian plan to restore victory among the African-Americans, without regret or retread.
(Author’s Note: Griffith must have known that very few African-Americans had money to pay for a roadshow, platform release like BIRTH and as will be seen, the Whites unapologetically win!)
Next shot, getting ready for the South Carolina trip is interesting because A. Stoneman’s house servants are of African origin, yet choose him as their leader, because they know they are not his equal.
As the children suggest to him, to take up residence in Piedmont, the town of the Cameron’s ACT I, continues to seed the flow of ACT II, the very next shot rolls in (left frame at the slightly angled frontage road—perhaps Piedmont’s main street, as seen earlier) and an expensive horse drawn carriage (a spectacle even for the rich, who were losing money and lives over the current World War I that was only in its middle of the road phase.) The shot reestablishes the friendship between the Stonemans and the Camerons and a factual reinterpretation illuminates the present situation, that Austin always intends to bring his family with him wherever he goes (until later, when they fall into harm’s way.)
From another angle the men enter the frame (filling up the space MUSKETEERS OF PIG ALLEY settle, eclipsing the African “mammy” who all but welcomes them home. The caboose of the house entering is concluded with the ever flirtatious “star-crossed” burgeoning love-birds (Ben Cameron and Elsie Stoneman)—Silas Lynch also approaches after Elsie leaves.
In the house, those that have entered, are in the foyeur and shown immediately to room (to the right frame, which means that the next cut on action retrieves information from shot A and merges into starting on the left and crossing to the right in the bedroom—shot B.)
Now, the next shot leads us back to the dreaded position that was enumerated in detail earlier and figures into the Griffith grids explorative franchise.
The house servant of the North meets the house servant of the South and a comical shenanigan busts loose vaudeville style. The Northern servant meets the emancipated Southern slave and she is immediately turned off by his attempt to get her to carry his bag into his quarters. So, “mammy” sends the Northerner into his quarters, labeling him as “black trash” and gives him a quick kick to the ass.
An intercut diametrically reveals the white folk having fun on the porch—never more excited. The next arrangement of the kindred spirits, reveals young daughter Cameron, vivaciously kissing Gish’s Elsie Stoneman, furthering the validation of the intensifying Romantic subplot that Ben Cameron does not mind a bit.
As the action is thrown back to the hallway, Austin Stoneman is in view, leaving his quarters to saunter outside. Again the servant meets the slave and this time the language gets slanderous. As the Northerner attempts to beguile “mammy” with hypnotic eyes, she is horrific in her insult. To quote the intertitle: “Dem free-niggers f’um de N’of am sho’ crazy.”
The line alone goes down in infamy and is a discussion section worthy of an entire book! There is a sense of maudlin and unkempt twisted humor in the version screened that many would call the black face actors, sell outs. Again, this quite frankly eliminates the notion of literacy, a notion that should not be left out of African-American History.
Cut back to a contrast—antithesis of the white players entrenched in a family love affair. Mae Marsh’s child-like innocence floats into the next shot (after refraining from embracing)—then she turns and gives a bow and exits by entering the house.
So to break up the calm, Lynch reenters the picture and Griffith describes this as condescension. The next shot is an enigmatic mix of face gestures. On the left is Lynch, appearing, as though he is smarter than he looks. Next, on the right of Silas is A. Stoneman cheerily thinking the Cameron’s will accept the “mulattos” hand. On the right of Austin is Elsie and she peers in to see how Ben will react and although he is not letting on that he is xenophobic, it is certain that the war he fought and nearly died for is always on his mind, especially as the North is subsuming power. Interesting that Silas extends his hand first and carried away by his judgment Ben Cameron gives a cold stare at Mr. Lynch and folds his hand away. Ben turns away and Silas appears unchallenged, but Austin Stoneman is a bit troubled, while Gish makes fawning looks at the whole situation remaining beautiful in the tension. So, Austin and Silas (Silas oft-forgot to be a Christian name) enter the house offscreen-right. Leaving the angered Ben Cameron and the much confused Ms. Stoneman. Then Austin is seen busting into the nursery—angrier than ever—followed by the unfettered Silas Lynch (in the background, a servant-slave is still hard at work, but she takes notice of the situation. Austin strips his blanket off and turns to blather on about Ben Cameron’s lack of politeness or something and Silas opens his pocket and removes a piece of paper—a scroll like document and as Austin takes and reads. Back outside is the reconciling Ben and Elsie, who prove that old time Romance did not used to be based on money—because clearly she is, by today’s standards—too rich for a poor man’s blood. Ben takes Elsie by the arm and they walk offscreen together. The contrasting displacement of the next interior-shot reveals Austin continually lecturing Silas, who looks stern and exits.
In this author’s opinion, the next intertitle gives too much away and is in some way a suspense killer in an excavating “terror” profile implementation way.
So it goes that Griffith’s intertitle accuses Lynch of being an all around “traitor,” sick with “power.” As about to be seen, there is a hint of truth in the statement, but perhaps it is another seat-grabbing money scheme, as budget is always on a good cinematographer’s mind.
Silas Lynch takes an arrogant stance, pointing to himself, as though he is some kind of “anti-Zorro” or a would-be enemy of humanism. At this point, he is drunk with power.
A huge jump into the next scene, exactly an hour and forty minutes in, begin the next battle, the South clinging onto the last remnants of a botched system of slavery. So they “rally” before the election board in attempt to stop the African-American vote, but the unseen tidal wave of Northern support is about to catch everyone off guard. Although, in the next shot, a black man taunts the crowd in a stereotypical vein. The African-American supporters listen to this upstart merely because he is of their color. Forty Acres and A Mule promised in every way and a libertine version of equality promised. The African-Americans in this movie see through these tactics as non-fraternal but governed through slick trick psychology.
The next shot closes in on the riled (over-hyperactive) black governor surrogate. In the crowd, the sign-posts of unplayable promises abound. Some ignore, others initiate a process of courtroom bedlam. Next shot is of an African-American at a voter registry (which means that African-Americans were allowed to vote earlier than most history books were printed as allowing.) Anyway, a small crowd of eager black voters rush in to sign the registry.
Griffith’s choice to displace time and elevate space, when watching him, it is like a dangerous time travel game. Silas, Austin and the eldest Stoneman enter a back door area, adjunct and directly behind the voting registry room. In the world’s most interesting voyeur shot, after Silas knocks on a door, the next cut is a match on action of an eye looking through the hole in the door.
(Author’s Note: how did this film survive the years of cinema history, discarding films non-chalantly after their screening circuit was over, as I have noticed from working intensively with film labs. However, many films have fallen into disrepair, due to the biodegradable nature of organic materials.)
Then again, there were never low supplies of Griffith’s prints circulating Hollywood and the world. Now it is easy to get a DVD copy over the Internet, as has been suggested in so many ways by this author. In those days, troublesome inequality was burgeoning all around in laws, practices, standards, and Griffith no doubt felt a bit drawn and quartered by historical accuracy, entertainment value and blind faith in the art of motion pictures. So it comes to pass that the African-Americans are being let into the political hall from the back door (another straight on blocky shot.) The next shot produces an abstract idea that is still far from hostile to anyone. The hearts and minds of the African-Americans in the political forum, are only a bit distracted because the war just ended. Austin and Silas enter the picture and in the next important cut, Silas is silencing the town council meeting and drawing attention in a “Nixon”-esque attention grabbing event. The crowd of imported African-American property becomes freed, but it seems as though they are laughing in contempt. In a vain attempt, Silas is waving and will make every attempt to win over the crowd of the uninterested.
The crowd of listeners do not seem to care about Silas’ demanding outlook (all all that he demands will be achieved.) Finally, Silas rises the crowd of sudden belief to their feet, as they have become supporters due to something Silas says (which, I think would have been nice in a soundtrack—yet, the intertitle that pops up on the “blackboard” next is: “The franchise for all blacks by way of enrolling the…vote.” (At this point, the uglier “n” word pops up and shall not be mentioned.
A gathering of blacks appear before the voting booth, eagerly awaiting their shot at the limelight. Then, in ignorance, a black man explains to a white American that if his “franchise” does not fill his “bucket”, then he could care less about it. This line connotes three views; One) The depression was so severe that no one in the African-American world had enough money to upkeep land; Two) The man had no idea what franchise meant or Three) That it is another of a series of racial slurs. The play on words continues in a Twain-esque allocated space of differences of opinion. A postmodern stance would admit that this too, is meaningless.
In the next undervalued scene, a glimpse of realism is injected into part two’s formalist camp—A whiter looking Silas wrestles with a dog while being taunted by two Black Men and the dog is thrown toward them, another anthropomorphic reference to the metaphor of a dividing line between the way “colored folk” were still thought to be “animals” (A tradition totally subverted and recontextualized by the late-capitalist artist Snoop Dogg.)
The love story is immediately leapt onto (as loosely and thematically as Godard’s PIERROT LE FOU—a movie where there is delinearized linearity.) Here the story moves with a heart-pounding forward action. The “windmill chaser” in this scene is Ben Cameron, still pursuing Elsie with all her might.
Silas sees the lovers and is stirred to envy, bitterness, rage, jealousy and lust. Ben Cameron leaves Elsie behind and goes to check on something offscreen. Silas slinks back behind the tree in the match cut (a reversal of the 180 degree line, practically filmed on the line in either direction, Ozu style—although not as close-up.) As it turns out, Ben Cameron went offscreen to fetch a bird to bring it to Elsie so that from a close-up sideview of the actress and actor, the little bird kisses Gish in a soft-focused natural light look to elevate time and space for an element of Griffith’s own hopeless longing for the ways of the old—a romantic (with a character flaw that will emerge, re-emerge and ultimately sink back into Romance.) The footage in this case, speaks for itself. Ben Cameron kisses the back of the bird to get closer to Elsie, but she still backs off at his attempted initiation into a touching relationship. And then, the bird-kissing reconvenes, and from a further back longer range shot, the two trees in the shot that frame our lovers and heroes walk closely together. Silas, from behind (in front, glares at the couple, in his eyes, is a lust for the old days of war-like segregation between the Northern and the Southern whites.) He walks toward the camera in the Griffith signature “walking into a close-up” fashion.
(Author’s note: the whole second half is so laced with conjecture, that it could be the root origin of blaxploitation.)
The next intertitle incites blistering romance by defining the characters as what they are not, in a negative unity discovery, only to define them by what they are. Gish alone in her room, kisses the “White Bird” (a song later coined by “It’s a Beautiful Day,” although the allusion to cocaine is totally in double-entendre innuendo in their version, whereas Griffith had the wherewithal to doubt any other meaning then a Manichean view, that white is pure and dark is the unpure.)
Jarring the readers of intertitles into another subplot altogether. (Author’s Note: Griffith’s anti-reflection of impetus driven fiction inserts values beyond a descriptive formula, insinuating that art never imitates life and life rarely imitates art. This line of reasoning could be a misnomer characterized by infractions against the terratorilization of a scary African-American penal code against the values that the founding fathers up to Lincoln wanted to withhold but couldn’t—especially after Lincoln’s martyrdom.)
So it goes that the South cannot forget and forgive the North (Even after 1865, the day the war ended—as lectured by my history buff friend Matthew Crowe), because their economy is and had been in shambles ever since the war.
Ms. Cameron, of the eldest of the daughters, stares at a flower, most likely playing the ‘she-loves-me, loves-me-not’, game, thinking of the eldest Stoneman boy in a natural longing. Of course, in a vein of Midsummer Night’s Dream, the eldest Stoneman stares off from behind a shrubbed hedge and looks into the eyes of the woman he longs for. Notice the doppelganger effect is intensifying—as mirror images collide in the film’s two central Romance subplots.
The narrative flips channels so frequently, but flows in unity to create a mind-wave of good and evil vibrations—unmitigated disasters that reawaken poetics in a caustic mindset—yet, the penetration of the Romance controls the war, as if a Lysisastrata-esque cease-fire plan has been put into place by the images and words of love, in this context, it is anything but a cop-out.
Disconnected shots of lovers (the man staring at the woman, who doesn’t even know he’s there, but secretly wishes he was) fuels the fire of this contextual abstraction of old Eros simplification, isolation and yearning for unity.
Comforting that there is no hostility between the acting couple, because they sense love for each other beyond a reasonable doubt—except when will their worlds collide—and why violence?
Now, I think it is important to step back and reflect on the way, in which, Griffith imposes a white utopia, entirely disrupted by the rise of the African-American empire (—a fear dating back to the Muslim Ottoman era, when Africans conquered Rome—perhaps.)
Definitively, the only message that can be salvaged by the wreckage of man’s laughter that followed in the wake of the film’s post-cinematic aftermath, is that love stories, in the midst of drama, always sell to a larger crowd, no matter how you concoct the formula. In fact, the New Wave in France responded far more accurately to Griffith’s purely nostalgic class critique TRUE HEART SUSIE, as the ultimate deproblematized film in his canon.
As the Stoneman’s eldest man and the Cameron’s eldest daughter are attracted, a feeling begets the honest viewer that things will work out between Elsie and Ben, as well, but at what cost?
In a nicely arrayed linkage cut, the 2nd couple of lovers mentioned return together—locking a non-biased stare of hypnosis. The couple gaze into each other’s eyes, for an effect of good sentiment and better acting abilities over any other screen example. Here is another scene, in which a forming relationship emits a complex value of what the French critics/poets term as amour fou (wild love.) Yet, in actuality reasonable weight is placed into a value of taming love—whereas the initial reaction of Ms. Cameron to evade her suitor turns into this gesture to stand up and secretly hope for him to follow—(Twists of Fate, divine bliss, and unexpected whimsy, as seen here, is a technique that Ernst Lubitsch coined as his own Lubitsch touch.)
As Ms. Cameron is standing surrounded by opulent foliage. In the reverse shot (albeit from a different camera angle to interest the viewer in a flexible space, achieves maximum depth of physical natures.
Mr. Stoneman (the young lover) leans over the fence, yearning for something that he understands, is out of reach and quite possibly that so forever.
The girl further walks away from the man; Her without any hint of what she really feels, altogether. Invisible boundaries represent the infinitely split sides of geographically mixed emotions.
Cut back to the first set of lovers (Elsie and Ben), also face tension and appear to disagree on their feelings for each other. Elsie, exits the frame to the left and enters the next shot from the right frame for contextual and indexical reference. Behind her in the second shot is a picturesque painting like immanence of natural beauty, competing with the beauty of Gish. She erupts, in tears and Ben moves to comfort her and discover by what means she has been driven to sorrow.
Ben sweet talks the girl into a happy mood, by initiating his feelings for her. They both finally embrace and their mutual respect is turning out to be a mutual relationship, back in the comfort zone.
The embrace fires up a passion, unquenched by the sands of time, unfettered by a modern sound film approach—in short, the love scenes here are impenetrable—erotic and mild. And the fade begins, as the lover’s kiss. As Elsie and Ben lock lips, it all but fades out to allow them their privacy.
Then, the dialogue appears in the intertitle, “I’ll watch you safely home.” It is a strange credit to silent film that just the intertitle derives a perfect picture and is not to mention, better for foreign markets, as only the intertitles need translation for people to understand the on-goings of the picture.
As the newfound lovers emerge midground left frame and walk further up the trail to the center foreground Elsie is so excited and frantic that she hugs her beau and rushes offscreen foreground, left frame.
The next shot of the film is of Elsie Stoneman’s bedroom, her private woman’s quarters, decked out with a large four post bed (which takes the center of attraction), neat paintings on the wall and other burgoise accoutrements—Elsie bursts in through a background doorway and is so giddy at her newfound love that she jumps for joy and the precious moment is conjoined with Ben Cameron, sensing her appeal outside of a gate. Satisfied, Ben walks away from the camera, headed down a path toward the background.
Cutting back to Elsie’s quarters, she proves her excitement by running around like a school girl and fantasizes about her love by kissing a bed post. A Close Up, in fact, illustrates her profound, bittersweet demeanor, as she knew, Ben was a kindred spirit, but now the curiosity has lead to erotic passion. She holds tight to her bed-post and the Close Up reveals Gish’s, Elsie, as a nuanced, meticulous actress, rabid for intimate detail.
After this cut, Ben Cameron’s march of love’s of his house—he turns aside, smiles and enters the doorway. Intercut of Elsie squeezing and cuddling her bedpost, still giddy as a school-girl. (Unlike the examination of adultery in marriage, in Griffith’s two versions of BATTLE OF THE SEXES—films that no doubt had an impact on Cecil B. Demille—here love is imparted with a graceful majesty—only to be later temporarily torn asunder by political mind games and a growing fascism implemented by North and South platonic aristocracy.)
So, after Ms. Stoneman has her ephermal, ethereal love hallucination, the film takes another turn toward the realm of uber-fiction. In not so many words, it is election time and for an unexplained reason only “blacks” are given the vote. And the question is, why is that a bad thing?
Well, for starters, democracy is an attempt to include everyone (unless they do not wish to be included, an option democracy feels uncertain of—in any case.)
In the election footage that follows, African-Americans control the polls and yet, the soldiers that are in place, do not seem to comfort a poor black man, who is beguiled and confused by a process that heretofore has been a white man’s game. Still the man votes and turns away, as he is being taken by census registry that is attempting to rig an election anyway. Then again, how much can a single person’s vote influence others? Apparently quite a bit, or the pollsters would not have made such an effort to control the damn thing.
Furthermore, the black-faced minstrel that voted, makes a racist stereotype face while making a comedy by voting twice. Next cut is in front of the gate of the Camerons as the top gun of the family strolls out on to the street in a tophat, implying that he is, at least at this point, not hurting for money (or too proud to admit that he is.) The gate closes and the director cuts to a fade up on the election poll scene, as though Mr. Cameron is headed for the voting square, though he has not a clue about what he will run into. The poll rigging demonstrates an ugly side of cultural imperialism American style. When tides turn, the government typically will stop at nothing to get what they want as part of some retooled gov’t process requiring world dominance, mitigating disaster by manipulating the feeble-minded poorer classes.
Interesting that when the white men (Mr. Cameron present) attempts to vote, a black faced soldier pushes him away to keep anyone that is not of color to vote. Next shot is positioned dead locking the puppet masters of the mainstay of the governing body politic, without the friendly persuasion of modern times.
Silas Lynch, in the foreground, shoves the excited pollsters aside, so he can verify the win, without any hubbub.
In Austin Stoneman’s inner chamber, his soldier son presents him with a detailed letter of announcement of some kind. The next intertitle reads out that Silas Lynch has won, as governor, he is elated and his followers erupt in satisfaction. Silas enters Stoneman’s room from the left screen (matching his exit of the ballot room.)
Elsie enters non-chalantly, glowing with affection—she holds a basket of flowers. Her father, Austin, confirms the news of Silas’ victorious election makes Elsie happy, in a genuine way.
The next shot is an excellent portrayal of what has most often been railed into Griffith’s mind as the power of editing. Later, Dziga Vertov in the Soviet Industry, wrote a book on cinema, KINO EYE that confirms a use of agitative propaganda trains, or a vehicle for the “agit-prop.” Griffith took this valuable lesson from Edwin Porter’s GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY, (a masterpiece deserving of sycophancies, as well as BIRTH.)
What happens here is an entire group of African-American soldiers parade down Piedmont’s street. Back in the Stoneman bedroom/study Austin has never been prouder of himself or his deliverance of a new leader. Little does he know that Griffith has an agenda to show that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Silas is happy, at this point—before the vainglorious descent into madness.
Silas’ line of sight match focuses in on Elsie, as she becomes his obscure object of indiscretionary desire. She unfolds a large poster board, which ghostly reflects light (probably manufactured electronic key and spot light.) And Austin continues his discomforting stare. The problem is that it has been a few minutes since he’s been elected and he already has his sight on forbidden fruit.
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is the first in a series of mistakes that leads to a Klansmen jihad—unusual due to the nature of the Quran’s spiritual battle that is meant entirely as a metaphor and or a spiritual battle with demons, never meant to manifest physically.)
Though Silas’ ugly stare is aimed at Elsie, her response is none because she cannot feel his lustful penetration of look. The next shot brings the multiple shots back together establishing continuity through brick-layering form and technique. Silas takes instruction from Austin and leaves the room. Elsie brings the papers to her father that she subtly places in his hand.
Next cut displays the African-American army going ballistic over the win of their appointed governor. Silas is elated at his supporters—They pick him up to carry him off and the next cut is of Austin watching from the window and so far Griffith seems to venerate the African-American takeover of politics—a theme he will stick with even after the bloodbath that later ensues.
For now, the Northerners could not be happier about their anti-Confederate, unity of the lower class, underprivileged racial equality act. In fact, Griffith does not view this in contempt (except for the uncomfortable moment that preceded jubilance involving Silas staring at Elsie.) FADE OUT and cut to an intertitle that portrays and depicts the Southern side of the story, to deflect Northern morays as all encompassing.
Ben Cameron is seated with a group of elders, including his father (they are in the main stairwell hall in the Cameron estate.) He recounts the changing historical news that brings him to anger. He explains some kind of trial, in which, a white man was tried and found guilty by a group of blacks.
Cut to another in a series of cunning, yet, abominable scenery of a court room, presided over by an African American official. The courtroom is moderate in temperament and it is far from the fantasy of bedlam that it will become. Next shot, an African-American on trial (obviously a black-faced minstrel—for more info on “black-face” check out Spike Lee’s BAMBOOZLED.) Next cut is a seemingly sedated crew of clean cut, mild mannered African Americans.
The African-American judge presiding attention over the crowd in the next shot, presents a double-sided thematic code reference that extols and abhors civil rights—Lincoln himself is only on one side of a penny. The unusual civil suit continues with a very uncomfortable upper class white family carry on without ease.
And so, the next shot of the entire courtroom reveals the man in the hot seat, let off the hook and the jury box rejoices. Back in the Cameron estate, Ben tells the story of the African-American takeover of power all throughout the South. The next chunk of the story takes place in what looks like a town square, ruled by some pretty mean African-Americans, ready for violence.
A white man and his son are told to clear off by the militiamen. Fancy that the militia men are villains that push around innocent people.
In the next screwed up series of events is black people, punishing a black man for not voting for their side of the ballot. So, the victimizing begins of a Southern man and Northerners are the responsible villains. A gang of militia men begin tying ropes upon the old slave and he is close to a tree. An intercut of an old man entering a cabin, slices between the reckless endangerment code of onscreen violence, when the Southerner is blinded and beaten with canes against a tree.
The old man hobbles around the corner and sees the (line of sight cut) mayhem ensuing all around, which turns the tides of the film into a racial hatred piece—perhaps the most notorious example of hate in all of cinema. The old man rushes into the frame and is shoved and shot dead by a soldier, but the slave is dropped from the tree and the militia get the hell out, thinking they are being watched.
Ben Cameron stands amongst his gathering, raising a fist at the camera angle (straight on) and then the film cuts quickly to the African-American slave breathing heavily, standing and running off frame right.
At the Cameron household, the elders stand and plot together a way to stop the madness (only, as we will see, the South fights madness with madness—the whole war is unhinged insanity, at this point.)
A term “faithful soul” is the most endearing remark made in reference to a black man in the entire film—The next shot is of the “soul” explaining to his owner of the near death torture he just experienced (gesturing in pantomime near the tree that the event took place.) The Cameron father slowly walks the slave offscreen and he brings him into the house where the others are waiting with sympathy. The continuity appears a bit hackneyed here because how did Mr. Cameron find his slave at all? This is never explained, and thus, the whole scene is an unusual object lesson in coincidence, albeit accidental.
The slave makes his statements of his near death experience known. The next scene is another in a series of “out-of-nowhere” theoretical conjectures, like a what-if that has never even remotely come close to happening in human history (just to prove how faulty the entire historical canon was, at this point—unless the event was suppressed, which wouldn’t matter, because it is in the film—one theory is that the unenlightenment throughout American has always left its meathooks in conjecturing historical “facsimiles.”
The less said about what happens here, the better, as the whole House of Representatives is taken over by African-Americans and they make a mockery out of it, proving either that they could not be leaders ( a fact disillusioned by the Protestant Work Ethic that contends to reason with the amount of a workload in comparison to leadership skills—or perhaps this is just further proof of xenophobia—or fear of the “other.”
Again, Griffith takes to task stylistic mastery by revealing a room (gov’t official-like) with desks and chairs that miraculously dissolves in the seated black officials—among the rest of the court—still, an unsurpassed aesthetic of detachment and looses the argument against him be sheer aesthetic prowess.
How loosely the word “Reconstruction” is tossed about, when the inexperienced African Americans turn the courtroom into a carnival of shams. As the presiding residence reads over the daily agenda, members of the house are displayed in a montage as drunkards, mannerless and in a final insult, a black man takes off his shoes and puts his feet on the table—Later Martin Scorsese will replicate this symbol of disrespect toward institutions when a “redneck” stereotype in CASINO puts his feet on a gambling unit and gets the shit beat out of him for the crime.
With inattentiveness, the blacks disrespect their surroundings and Griffith disrespect their surroundings and Griffith disrespects them by creating this hoax. To add insult to injury, the speaker of the house puts out an order for members to always wear shoes—a parodic idiosyncrasy of what was (and in some small circles) considered a laughing matter. Cut after cut in this painful memory (still well composed, but over the line in content.) The rules that finally get the court’s attention are twofold: all black officers are to be saluted (not a problem) and that miscegenation is allowed, between black men and white women, which, long story short, the crowd erupts in much rejoicing. And, it goes without saying that the whole “fictive” sequence is put together with the same stylistic care that under Griffith’s gun is making the unreal, real, for better, or in this case, for worse.
There is a shot series to follow closely during these events, that of the new majority of blacks taking over the house and the old white majority reduced to minority—relegated to a balcony view of the entire charade. So the hall resounds with Black pride and it isn’t too much to anticipate what with the cuts between the floor and the balcony that some other plan is being put into place—as, the wool is pulled over the eyes of blind justice.
What ensues next should come with another warning, besides its foreshadowed “Grim Reaping” label. After Silas Lynch opened the Golden Door for equality, almost immediately, is the new power abused. Foreshadowing immense, the next shot is a bit frightening. Notice in the scenario, Gish’s Elsie and Mae Marsh’s innocent young girl sit near a split of two trees and in the far off distance (in the background behind them), near the fence line, stands a menacing black-faced man, that sneaks a look at the two girls—CLOSE-UP on the man and he is encircled by a faded ellipsis, staring grotesquely with a face of violence, anger and frustration. Cut back to the girls seated at the tree, coddled in each other’s arms, not quite feeling the vibrant aura of hate flowing their way. In fact, the black man walks away, as the two ladies lock hands and head behind the trees, disappearing offscreen frame right. The black man (who has factored in before and whose name shall be known as “Gus”) reappears and heads to the right of the frame in a stalking motif. Next shot, the jovial women (match on action) rush into the day shot exterior of the fence gate entrance and enter the yard. The next cut is back at the trees, finishing a crosscut of “Gus” leaving the frame to the right, followed by a shot of the Gate from a front (rather than rear, as before,) as the peering Gus looks at the women (of course, they are both so dolled up, it must be noted that they are both easy to look at.)
The next shot is on the porch and who should greet the lovely woman and girl, but none other than Silas Lynch, doffing his hat to the kindreds, shaking Elsie’s hand in a seemingly innocent way. Next, Gus stares through the gate and picks up a stick and chews on it, a nervous “oral” fixation, no less. Back on the porch, Lynch has a “mirror” fixation on the objectified Elsie, who takes cue from the younger girl that exits frame left. Next shot, Ben Cameron catches the plot in the act and as the following shot reveals, Elsie is unable to get away from Lynch’s gaze. Ben Cameron is actually in both the master shot and a side angle mid-shot in juxtaposed variation and he is not in the least bit amused. (Note: Cultural Imperialism has this whole scene tied up in knots—as a minority is viewed as dangerous when seizing power.) Stares are in a match cut, the white young girl Ben Cameron is not amused, yet Silas almost appears, in acting craft, diversionary and intentionally distracting. Silas wanders off to the background.
In the same scene, Elsie and young and innocent Cameron girl discuss the rudeness of Silas, Elsie deflects the sentiment and they cordially kiss each other in affection—The girl’s squeeze hands and off Elsie goes, screen left. Almost immediately after this Gus is seen prowling along the fence line, yet again and the young girl (very next take) exits the frame by entering the house.
Action on Ben Cameron approaching Gus with the utmost vindictiveness and according to an intertitle, Ben “orders” Gus to stay “away.” So the bust shot of Ben Cameron reveals, in pantomime’s autonomous function, to give Gus the “exit” sign.
Reverse shot to Gus indignant at his foil, acting tough and all. Next, Silas is seen, still giddy, entering a nearby door, stopping to look back at the scene, which in line of sight match reveals Ben and Gus continuing their heated quarrel (on opposite sides of the fence, literally and figuratively.)
Silas’ reaction shot reveals him to be angered at the sight of the disrespect of Gus. So much so that he enters the shot with the argument, still going on and Ben is then framed alone—eyes lighting up—CUT TO, Silas talks to the man, as the angered militant Gus shoots a bedeviled stare at Ben, who in linking shots, decides it is high time to exit as he does (and the background, is still that Athenian-like pillar column at the estate/ex-plantation.) Silas appears to chastigate Gus, though and Gus wanders off defeated.
The next intertitle, again, gives a bit too much away—it refers to Ben’s sadness that his “people” are being led to “ruin.” Ben is now seen on a hill-side over-looking a river or lake (in a Gainsborough like picture, though typically he did not deal with frustrated characters.)
Next shot, is, as sad as it seems by today’s standard, the entire impetus for the Klan’s origin comes about in a series of shots, in which Ben Cameron views two naughty children (apparently poor white trash) dressing up like a “ghost” to frighten away some harmless black children. Ben is, for personal reasons, amazed at this reaction. The shot reverse shot that is apparently at Ben’s line of sight reveals a total scare tactic of two white kids, in a white sheet, again, frightening away the black children—(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This I find troubling because, a ghost really shouldn’t be scary in comparison to a riled up, ex-slave owner)—anyway, the scare tactic works and the bed-sheet ghost (HALLOWEEN style), causes the black children to panic and flee. This is the “inspiration” for the Klan—(a fact that this author finds hard to believe), but nonetheless, there is Griffith’s argument.
In the reaction shot, Ben Cameron is joyous to discover this devilish enactment, altogether ‘anti-black’. He waves his hat and points his finger in a “that’s it,” mannerism. The next intertitle gives the next series of problems away—that the “KKK” is formed to “save the South from the anarchy of black rule,” although, even Griffith admits that a lot of blood is going to be shed.
The very next shot reveals the foreboding Klansmen, decked out in cross covered shrouds, horses covered by blankets, points at the top of their heads—in some kind of heretical anti-Christian mode of hatred, determined to punish the innocent culture of African-Americans, for attempting to take over the turf.
Further proof of this “tragedy” comes about when the Klan attacks a supposed “barn-burner,” for the sake of entertainment. Two black men leave their house and walk to the foreground, frame left. The Klan, in the next shot, stalk them from behind a hedge, waiting to move in for the kill. As the “black” men exit the gate, the Klan awaits to give them a scare—interesting that such “puritans” slam down a keg of what appears to be alcohol (what else could it be?) The black-faced actors (in a reverse-shot CLOSE UP) soon to be come-uppance, distracted completely by their lethal terminators. Foreboding in every way, the sinister plot of the klan is at hand.
More trembling, more scare tactics, waves of a terrifying hand, sends the two “Black” men back to their cabin. Feeling triumphant in this unhatching race war, the Klan rides off into the background, disappearing. Now things get even more disturbing when the intertitle reveals that Lynch’s men are the first to “score…blood” against the KKK (not that they aren’t justified to do so, in the wake of confusion.) Silas Lynch retaliates with militia men in waiting—completely armed for a battle. A spy tells them of the Klan’s arrival and in the next shot, the riders aptly arrive on the scene, quickly racing toward the center foreground from the background. Next shot, an African-American prototype pops off a shot—(it appears to be “Gus,” the most defamed of all the scape-goats) and he blasts a shot offscreen left. The shot connects with a KKK rider knocking his dead ass off his covered horse. The violence and panic to come is far worse. Is this really Griffith’s plan to end war? Or is it a ploy to metaphorically valorize the klan? Hard to tell so far. Apparently the “klansploitation” is only the tip of the iceberg of today’s safer readings of BIRTH.
So, three Klansmen are gunned down, and this incites a furor among the Stoneman’s power trip, because Silas (in the next shot) brings the dead klansmen garb to Stoneman to prove that there is a total conspiracy just waiting to be unhinged. Silas, Gus and Austin agree that something must be done (Austin pounds his cane—or objective correlative—a prop that gives him attitude.) So Austin blurts out his plan—(intertitle reads: “We shall crush the white South under the heel of the black South.) Silas exits offscreen left, mid-background, through a door, determined to follow Austin’s orders.
Fate, chance and time has now revealed her lover as a racist, Ben dose his best to muddle through an apology, but Elsie pulls away, exiting frame left. Cut to Elsie walking away from who she thought she could trust and as she approaches center screen, she looks back to see what effect this has on Ben. Cut to Ben looking broken-hearted almost instantly. She returns to him, crossing through connected frames and waves a finger at him, putting it up to her lips explaining—as noted in the intertitle; “But you need not fear that I will betray you.” Still she leaves him in the lurch and the very next cut reveals her in nature’s beauty, leaving her beau for what they both think will be forever. So, Ben turns and exits his frame space to the right offscreen.
Next, in the mise-en-scene, Elsie’s room is (in purple tinting) occupied by the down-trodden Elsie, registering that she is saddened by her decision to leave the love of her life, even if he is a pain in the ass to her father’s livelihood.
The next cut is of Ben Entering his house to meet his little sister, involved with the Klan, due to her brother’s alliance with the group. (Perhaps this has something to do with her downfall later.) Intertitle explains that the Klan has already risen to, at least four hundred thousand—a strength in numbers propaganda technique and the costumes were made by the women.
Ben unveils his klan outfit (Klan symbols being two crosses in two circles), he shows it to his little sister, pointing at his eyes to get her attention. She follows him to the background and sits in front of their mother, who looks ready to replicate many outfits. They together, examine the design and if the Klan is a secret society that attempts to hide knowledge, why does Griffith expose them behind closed doors? Ben meets with his sister, closer to the foreground again and he confirms the secret of his society, although now that the secret’s been represented, it is no longer one among audiences.
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: I must add that in recent observations, promotion of a racist organization, at all, is an unfortunate accident, because one kind of racism is quite plausible to lead to another.) Anyway, actress Mae Marsh, as young daughter Cameron returns on screen, from offscreen left wearing a Confederate Flag, positioning her hand in the air, as though taking an oath. She leaves the screen for a second, running back in frame, affirms her brother and races to her mother’s sewing table to help make Klan costumes.
Cut back to: Lillian Gish’s Elsie Stoneman, in a bust shot, in her bedroom, staring at her birdcage, in a state of shock—(the ellipsis is a half-circle arc on the right.) And next is Ben and family, as though Ben can sense Elsie, but almost with a sense of indifference, but some beguilement is transpiring. In the next shot, again there is Elsie, almost as though, she is praying for her lover to give up his qualms in the ensuing race war, before it gets uglier.
The Next Shot is of Elsie hugging, her brother Ben to approve of what he is doing, despite the ongoing vibrations he may or may not be picking up from his lover. He shakes his head, as though that is the confirmation, he needs for the go ahead with the plan. As he exits the room in confidence, he turns and notices his little sister, clinging onto his arm, he smiles and assuredly exits through the door mid-frame, as happy go lucky, as a smiling killer could be.
Next shot, it seems as though Ben enters THE STAIRWELL ROOM with reservations, almost, as though he is still not prepared to do what he is about to do. His sister (in the next shot) reopens, the door and purports to urge him to do the deed. (Confirmed in the next intertitle, which reads: “Little sister consoles the disconsolate lover.”) The next two shot confirms this disposition, as Elsie exits the knitting room, to the Stairwell room and gives her brother another affirmation. Meanwhile, in the previous room the door to keep the secret. Then, in the Stairwell Room the little sister sends her brother off with a kiss.
In the next fade in, the camera is back on a full room shot of Elsie collapsing on her giant four poster bed, crying as though she can sense Ben’s decision—And, then the film cuts back to the three Cameron girls sewing together klan costumes. Together, they prepare a bag—but next the intertitle, switches the film into a different gear. Apparently, although forewarned, she goes off to a “spring” to retrieve water from a Spring. So, she leaves the private practitioners and fetches a pail of water, points at the door, but they all could use water, no doubt.
Out the front door busts the little girl, in a fun and fancy free aspect, all prepared to get some thirst-quencher for the ladies. Hovering by the gate is the black-faced Gus, lurching down around the gate, waiting for his moment of the attack. This is where Bill Nichols’ MOVIES AND METHODS I and II, comes in for the block. It reproves that this whole scene is only safe for an African-American audience in a state of “DISAVOWAL” (as though it never happened, for example.) Next shot is of Elsie trotting her way past the gate free-lovingly. Then the camera cuts to a wide shot of a large pasture empty, until the Young Cameron girl reels into frame from offscreen left and rushes to the Midground center of the scene, after picking up a bramble off of the ground, next to a shrubbery.
Gus stalks along the gate, where the Young Cameron girl was at before, sneaking after the girl with malicious intent stopping for a moment to bare his murderous teeth. (Perhaps, again, he knows of her Klansmen ties.) Elsie, sensing no danger runs offscreen foreground left. Gus begins to retreat, but then does a double-take and acts, as though he will leave the scene.
Next shot, young Cameron is at the Spring, filling up her bucket, happily enjoying the picturesque scenario, she wipes a bit of mud off her hand. Close-up insert on the bucket being filled by water and then the film cuts to the little girl positioned over the waterfall-like Spring, checking out her right hand (screen left), as though she has slightly injured it—
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: A key figurehead of the “Flaw in the Apparatus” technique is Mary Anne Doane—who posits that the camera itself is made by men, for men and used to intimidate and harass women—a theory only half-true in Griffith’s domain, as all the women in BIRTH are stereotypes turned archetypes, whether they are marytrers or martyrs or in between—Griffith’s preference was in the middle of the perspective, which lays claim to some kind of non-existent right-wing feminism—As the Religious Right category is a privilege to men, as the believe that many scribes were women, but many more were men and being technical dataticians there is very little sympathy for territorial warfare.)
Eventually, Gus violently thrusts his black-face mug right up at the little Cameron girl and explains in the intertitle (quite vehemently, no doubt,) “You see, I’m a Captain now and I want to marry—“ He goes onto explain to the innervated white girl that something is wrong with this picture and this is the point where this is the point where this book changes gears, to gear up for the new establishment of democracy…
BOOK II—“EXODUS”
There is a devastating shotgun blast in WITHIN OUR GATES, which is disturbing as hell—Unfortunately, Micheaux is usually always the first to turn the other cheek, look into the gaze of this film for ways to live life without getting killed by the Klan—In the old law text reference of D.W. Griffith’s PROUD KENTUCKIAN, an antiklan warning and then goes hostile on the human race what with the Klan suddenly no longer winning the race against time that is better spent on objects that will confide in each other in illusory ways—Still, I believe Micheaux answers to man, but himself and peers—
Although, if we realign the literary reservoir of untapped solutions, let us not forget the ways of Griffith’s JUDITH OF BETHULIA, an almost ‘Sartre’-like apocryphal pro-semitic codes in it. Yet again Micheaux proves that we should stick together and there is no quicker way to outstage one another, unless, of course, if you pick WITHIN OUR GATES, as a motivator for an unusual switch of alliance between one group of “playa-hataz” to the next episodic genre of a merely hypothetically disconnected for a language that even the underground of the Village Voice’s top 250 films, totally agrees with—Although, what if there is no bridging certain gaps until Micheaux bridges them to his communion of time’s lost metaphors—please don’t be lost forever—
If I had to choose between directors, for BROKEN BLOSSOMS alone, I would choose D.W. Griffith—however, word is on the street that the new guns in town are haunted by the past ghosts of wisdom and dreams. At this point, let us take a look at the inner battle for peace in Both the Hebraic and Christian and Muslim texts that means, basically everybody tells it like it is, without even trying.

SHOT I—
A poker match between gangsters.
SHOT II—
A woman escapes from sexual harassment.
Shot III—
Church sequence
Let us examine how the higher echelons in hidden society helped and hindered the Church.
The sermon delivered by the most African-king of sermonic wisdom is to take White man’s money, you must first sink their battleships through a slow shuffle of an entirely, too out of sequence areas of overlap all around. One scene that I cannot understand is why gangsters did a drive by, however, if you believe only what you see in the text, other pressures of religious oppression oozing through the metatext, claiming that Abraham created a Golden Calf, which in rigid Biblical context, Abraham nearly slew his son on an altar and steadied his hand to kill a sheep—Then again, what if this, too, became a shameless money ploy to fend off the separatist agenda—then again, everyone gets checked out humanistically in this metaphor.
The story of the genre changing films is by far the most wicked in Micheaux’s tale of redemption from liars, hangmen, and thieves, by way of handling the lust within, through interconnected and yes, Micheaux is very different then Griffith in many ways—he takes us through a systematic deliverance of the African-Americans from the clutches of every cliché of race, class and gender and no religion for the humanist, in a still controlled Northern Alliance—the funny thing about Micheaux is his style has not been over dramatically emphasized all around vs. Confusion, is the key element to forgetting about the “n” word, by way of intercepting it in the airwaves and handing it over to be used only within black communities. Every African-American in the world is required, as an enthusiast, to give this Micheaux dialectic, which is far too intellectual for White Audiences altogether. In other words, separatists can even change horses in mid-stream without getting burned, because they were establishing an all Black community, where white men should fear to tread. These days there is a less dangerous Ghetto thanks to directors like Spike Lee and Aaron Hughes, who have delivered us away from the Spectrum to make waves among audiences—Or feature me this exodus, there is no better film for a University of Secret Campuses or a secret culture of African-American domineering individuals can thrive without giving due to the days of heretical white people that believe in flags more than a true artist’s dream.
Or, if this film is ever decoded the right way—the ‘Arnheimian’ block would allow the block party to continue all around the world.
To draw the impasse line on Griffith’s fantasyland of ceasing without thinking, is full of supplies, as to how to set up a multiple narrative paranoid structure to build up a hostile “March of the Klan” sequence, which hurts people because this is the hardest scene for black people to sit through, so in accordance to the plan set forth by Bill Nichol’s MOVIES AND METHODS, that a new nation should be rated in to artistic ‘myth-busters’ who become severely paranoid about Klan reenactments in progress in the deluded minds of the Southern Confederacy. So let us now turn to the second half of this ‘exodus’ to spring one loose on the Klan when under this duress there is only one American antidote that will slow down the arrangement of disorders to spread a cultural-war of mayhem, in order to change the whole ‘mothafuckin’ viewpoint, let us turn to the pages of a better or equal film WITHIN OUR GATES, for we are about to view a game called race retrieval, even in the North, to revile, beguile, entrance and Romance and to venomously join hands with the new man who would be king.
The images to WITHIN OUR GATES overlap with many more sophisticated ‘cubist’ elemental disturbances by creating a modern journey through ecstatic wavelengths that divide us by evening us out. At any rate, as my thoughts of Oscar Micheaux’s later collaboration with Paul Robeson are all around us—what if there was an argument that Micheaux is like the Miles Davis of silent film. Everything is improve, every cut a reaction against reactionary consciousness.
Many fine-looking women in appear in this vision of a wholesome, relaxing relationship between the Black and White exhalation from womanizer to a victim of circumstance (all of the above). I have a theory that this film was a nearly all ‘Klansmen’ devaluating opposition by unthreading earthy philosophies in a wave of anti-terror tactics through a seamlessly woven un ‘out-mazable’ impermeable flawless victory—
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: With opinions in the mix, I may be more of a Griffith fan, but until the end of this book, the worst days must have been for Southern Contemporary blacks from post-Birth to as early as 1918-9 when WITHIN OUR GATES, the first surviving all African-American high cast—a handle full of gently hazing stereotypes of the immediate downfall of white man’s infrastructure, which usually invades our deepest emotions to pick up where Griffith left off.)
At the End of BIRTH there is a strange image of Heaven, and it seems like everyone there is ‘white’, however no one can tell, that mostly white Klansmen went the way of the Centaur threshold guardian from hell, which is what locks people into a corrosion of conformity in an era of widespread panic there is a jazz of a tale coming up about a strange way to bring the silent image to life in a piecemeal and assortment of scenes that move fast and slow upon Micheaux’s command. Every good entrance into the mind must be quelmed by a whole new vocabulary of film style, as yet to be untapped, even in many conscious realms, subsidence to a final warning is all around us. Now this may be a major breaking point from Classical to Modern.
The cool thing about “gangstas” is that they have their own rhythmic patterns, which cannot be unlocked unless in a gangsta community where heavy studies pressure time to the point that no one can get their work done in a stable ‘cool’ place—(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This may be a foolish approach—I can only agree to disagree—for he that succumbs to the haze of one film must not reveal unto others any secrets of Micheaux, because they are too precious to only be revealed to a white-controlled media—
Jackpots are endowed by equilibrium in this community by a slow due process and let us say we still live in a world where everyone gets to choose their favorite media—Think about the sacrifices each member made in each community and we all break even, but let us take a moment to clear the air of tiring perspectives—There is a code of bourgeoisie ethics, which links the entire community together that links friends and family and lovers into a proper assortment of criteria inventiveness and a nice light touch of homestyle values—that get a business between friends throughout the day’s frustrations without proving that anything is more caustic to the mind, without fastening in on the ride for the block. Critical Study methods aside, there is no other way to get through this wonder-ride of perfect pictures again, because his legendary status as the origin of black features in America has never been overemphasized as this—I have it on high alert that this film must be screened to stop the stereo-types and create prototypes of men among men.
Let us take into account poetic sequence of ‘little-boy sees his own noose.’ And due to this prophesy, he runs away with it. Give credit where credit is due here to respond to the argument that black men in the media are going to take another one of D.W. Griffith’s dirty deeds, think of a way to fit this puzzle together, or die tryin’’—It is pleasing when African men smoke cigars, they appear dignified, at last.
So, at last we find the true leaders of the civil rights activists—and it is without shame to admit that ‘herbal’ pleasure relieves tension throughout intense writing, as well as juggling around caustic, intermixable theories, imposing a ‘bell hooks’-ian tale of what happens to declassification of leaders among civil suspects that always find out loud speakers have been placed all around us to shelter our brains from places I fear should be off-limits, except for respectable members that get the ‘willies’ for even going near that slow train of reasoning, which is the last way of breaking through to meaninglessness and self-assurance—Micheaux equips black men with ways around contexts (AUTHOR’S NOTE: I get this fear that some should.)
Toss around the veil of hope of a semi-sweet Romantic collusion of multicultural instructions to wake up to the true American ‘Father’ of Independence. Apparently the score on the boot-leg DVD transfer is by Rose Rio—on the soundtrack for a soothing, melancholy, melancholy flavorful whimsy that is a milestone in film history music scores, which makes it quite possible to be one of the actual scores used.
Where was this film screened? So far it is nearly impossible to find research to the subjects and objects of this would-be box-office abundance of holy folk-lore and peaceful vengeance—upon a nation of media scandals that occurred between BIRTH and WITHIN. Let us now take the ‘pulp’ and ‘cult’ approach to this whole gangbustin—operative/comparative narrative of reciprocal proportions that no silent film history class should ever go without in a reiterated, disconnected scrambled Griffithian alter-ego, this Griffith styles with the Micheaux impulse to reject the ways of Griffith forevermore and that is how deep this shit goes—Or does it? But because there is a bit of gun violence, are ethics enslaved here, or when women are rescued by love over lust, is this a crime, or is it wrong to rig the entirely divisive techniques of crafts-man-mania, to exclude portions of reality that too will never be discussed—Always follow the ways of Susan Sontag’s AGAINST INTERPRETATION and as a white-viewer take it all in for what it is worth. If you still think there is a dull side to enthusiasm to silent films think again.
How rigidly should I view the assortment of thwarted scandals in the new vision of revisionary standards because the film is like a montage of functionable time to chill out, drink up and tune in to the values of the old school of episodic formalism—through a vein of French Poetry with many twists and turns that can only be broken down by multiple viewings—Maybe there is no causality between the whites and blacks in the film, unless, of course, linkage stands in the way of a mode to take out the fear of miscegenation and xenophobia to supplant it with a Zen-o-philiac expression—Lovers of ‘African-American’ cinema will no doubt take note, because it oppresses by depressurizing only as a cultural metaphorical myth.
Right now I’m viewing a shot of lovers at a bench, parting ways and then again it is business time among successful black business men—some of the innervating footage involves a plot of a school-shooting, but because children are seen out of context all around, one view is that this too is merely the nature of cinema—fooling us by not foolishly proceeding to do so. Ethics and physics have timed out momentarily for a journey back into criticism—Some of the black folk in this narrative bear the burdens for the higher echelon—
But why do all the praying women seem to get punishment, maybe at the loss of faith, faith returns unless you believe in a system of overlapping dilemmas that all iron out in the name of the death to self for the namesake of a true Romantic vision. Maybe even this film, combined with the first two-thirds of Griffith’s BIRTH can become an interlocutor, as to how to serve servants, instead of some self-serving agenda, which gives power to the feminist world all around.
However, nobody boozes it up like the preacherman in the film and he totally gets away with it, sue to some strange allegiance between how money systems work, ideally the poor will become rich in whatever context their mind is in—with or without money’s seductive allure.
There are peeping-toms at every window of every window, during certain excerpts of the film for the block. However, how can this film create an impasse to the Klan—by subverting oppositionals with mixed messages without ceasing. Herein lies the challenge for contemporary audiences: How long can you play the movie over and over repeatedly before it makes sense?
Many hard workers gave an impressive helping hand into the community of work acts for the public and many people are still unsure who built this community with help from a whole team of researchers that are willing to breach all information just to stop the anti-Black, as it has come in many forms, from kindred to angry white lynch mobs—so the gun battles are even out of sequence, in all respects, so maybe they went down and maybe they challenged the system on an endless writing spree of literacy to approach the business from all angles—Even though a black man stands up for a riotous white mob, they bowl him over. Which reminds me of a John Fordian, ‘Young Mr. Lincoln’ parable, people do terrible things in a mob mode, unless there is a sudden reformation of loyalty that denies old rumors by respectively titling the blacks as human beings. Many notices spring up in the intertitles, as to how to keep racism localized until the race war ceases its fire, unless there is a counterpart to need to have an ulterior motive to redirect certain prophesies to bring them to fruition by any means necessary, which means, if there is a plan of action to disassemble logic and end the singularly auteurian of old man Griffith, what better way to end the lie then by injecting him with his oppositional counterpart.
In a harrowing scene of reckless endangerment, an old white man beats up on what he treats as a house-servant. Whereas, this image creates friction to be redeemed by studios approaches to masculine fetishizing of an underprivileged society—Which cannot streak its way through history fast enough—And this film works on an imaginative and intellectual, creative and challenging Form, Style and Content. Or as Stanley Cavell would say, it qualifies as a film due to its, “automatic succession of projected images,” the best definition of film this author has run across, so far.
In form it is pluralist uses a touch of a whole new paint can of civil rights issues.
Style-in mastery of a montage that can never be reedited into sequence.
Content-sequence by sequence, it will soon come together.
Always save your best cinema critical awareness game at the Noel Burch point of Institutional Mode of Representation—a hybrid of Lumiere and Melies, the pillars of reality and formal/informalities, with the primitive mode of representation that lasted from Edison to Porter—This is the true origination pattern, post-optical toy era—thaumatrope—a two-sided flip circle card on a string that when twirled creates persistence of vision (as do all ‘Tropes’ when explained—see also BORDWELL AND THOMPSON’S for the history of Cinema’s origin hunt, which demarcates series photography, as important as the mysteriously lost Reynaudian ‘zoopraxinoscope.’)
Within Our Gates is among the first independent features (emerging in some arguments before Buster Keaton had paid his dues on Broadway vaudeville revue circuits) to break the mold entirely and stray the indy movement to a modern zone, where it is safe in a word-game way to debunk the philosophies of benign, defiling remarks of faltering white races that must have been rooted as the government and the NAACP found more info about the film—
In a particularly modern looking office, a black protagonist social worker pays his bills in a hotbed of stress, although sophisticated upstanding decent bourgeois black couples in fine attire contained in consumerism in a magnificent ‘American Dream’ kind of way.
However, later in the film violence erupts all around, an alley fight, for example is one of the many trials Americans have put the Africans through as a special welcome to an uninvited community.
Later in the film, a whole due process of an attempt to remove black voters proves the BIRTH theory that some kind of demagogue was placing pressure on who should vote for what—Improving this mentality, just view how dignified the African women in this film are in dress, stature and importance, whether in nature or centered in a hospital sick-bed. Women in this community, unlike Griffith’s stereotypes are prototypes for African-American communities to find ways around rigid assimilation codes—never has there been this feat of code reversal between what must have been four years of racial tension released on the masses by Birth’s unusual aftermath—proven by Micheaux’s triumphant release of this one film—Again, where else in historical tone poems can one find such quick-fix liberal agendas by way of making a special space for black media that had only existed in chaotic Griffith-land for the most part—whereas in Micheaux’s case this is one pot of Gold that truly lies under the rainbow with many ways through its complex narrative structure, which will take many more books in the future to uncover everything. There is an odd maneuver in the film to sometimes isolate gender in the same space, or to allow men and women to abrasively resolve unusual differences—between disagreements between higher echelons of black and white communities that often agree to disagree to disagree to agree, unless the problems can only be solved by movie-parlor tricks of phony gun battles to sort out differences—(AUTHOR’S NOTE: A colleague of mine, Mathew Klickstein, upon screening the film, announced that GATES has among the great gun battles to be seen in film history)—juxtaposed by African-American men and women losing none of the luster of their divinity in their modest, humble and yet somewhat prideful behavior—Some relationships were built to last, some were not, but in the land of Brother’s trust, some rules of time and context were just plain meant to be broken—from temptation through revilement into a discourse of patience and temperance completely maze-like in an indefinable structure, which zigzags and loops around so hard-edged that only a scientist could rearrange and reengineer its course of logic.
For this league of typology, it is recommendable for multi-viewings to piece together an oppressor versus an unoppressed approach—or wouldn’t it be nicer to compliment the film for its abundant life-lessons about, hard work, love and the lack thereof, reasoning with the beguilement of hard labor and an effort to bring literature and schools into an all Black Americana pre-Harlem Renaissance kind of way. The true facts lie in the rigid ways of improve denoted by character responses to the Micheaux gate of a logic of standards. So it goes that corruptors in the guise of helpers infiltrate the white media, a curse that over time has been broken by black musicians like Lead Belly, Sarah Vaughn all the way up to Ray Charles and if one song could sum up the treatment of master-slave to fully represent this movie by own sacrificial attitude to submit to the African-Americans around us before anyone. (AUTHOR’S NOTE: Although my ‘white’ mind has been brainwashed by codes of hostility toward other races, Oscar Micheaux makes it all go away with his key-hole Chinese box structure that is intentionally irresolvable by anybody white.)
So, to do the best now to turn the page on the heretical views of the Griffith camp and pave a new way into accessible frameworks of acceptable black media—(AUTHOR’S NOTE: first off, in my book there is no form of unacceptable media, as if you banish one film from a registry, don’t you have to ban them all?)
White scandals demarcate thematic, which can be read on the various modules of money-lending and greed that barely pay the cost of this cobbled together one-man arsenal of oppositional standards and structures that are hereby redeemed in the face of the constantly imposed sub-standard—which, in brevity of pictorial description will pass the torch onto the cult of Micheaux to experience the whole movie as a ‘religious’ handbook of important film technique—
While blacks in the film band together, still entrenched in manual labor, the white overlords are constantly trying to outdo them in a secular malaise of stream of consciousness—time to reverse the flow through passive/active rebuilders of society that do not want to knock things down in order to rebuild but are sometimes driven to the centrifugal force by confusion—In this context, there is a whole new establishment of civility rising from the workers to the social community, to a freedom that will someday release the black people from racial bondage—when this will happen is anybody’s guess—Hang on for a conclusion, at this point.
The cynical approach to Micheaux is that the trail is being blazed before us in our circumstantial illusions of our haunting past—I will stake my claim further on an epicurean/stoic rhetoric of mathematician crafted montage—even then Micheaux is so defeatist in his ways of beating the entire system by allowing true entrance to only the African-American community. Many letters and many telegrams demarcate a hidden timeline, where this author will never trespass—
Analytics of the gambler footage involves a square table of friends—each in their own chair play a long game of cards that starts off mid-length and beautiful ladies fill up the beverages—Let us leave it at the semi-shady poker level here.
The character Conrad is a gentlemen with a proposition to become one with the city life without any greed or lust, but instead to systematize a master plan of African-American studious dominion—surrounded by murderous evil.
However, Micheaux owns the time and spatial context of his revenue of independent education, independent format and no wrong way to thwart a battle—except through stabilization within an environ of bloody murder.
How much propaganda has been erased from the social registry that was disempowering to the Black Community—I think we can all say that now it is their turn to train film out of inherent hatreds, bigotry and slander—The strange class structure to Micheaux feeds the machine of capitalism in the teens, which in my view is far more utopic than any other vision.
If only there was a way to tame out the nervousness in the black community without burdening them with a white standard of hostile guilt—
In other words, all social infrastructures will be maintained by inter-relations throughout the rich and the poor that collaborate to pull each other from their transgressive nature—only the white man and the defiling corruptor within us muscle the burdens of the trustful money communities away from the tribalistic communal nature in the value of loyalty, honor and respect for brotherly love.
However, the battle for love in a disempowered black of poorer classes, although it is without question that only the rich, powerful black men gain rank through a concern for the poor. Yet, don’t the rich and powerful not donate to the churches and infrastructures to humble themselves in the sight of the community—or does it still boot-stomp an old theory that onscreen gun battles are the cathexis to train to use one in self-defense or for whatever reason—Still the higher echelons are nervous about gun battles creating waves of hysteria that will collide with free creativity that all went down in American History and should be obtained as a non-cultural war tie-breaker—that delineates time and spatial connections, which defragment theology into a workable space of anti-guilt, so that others recommend their styles to the last of the vintage fashion trends, which means that some old habits never die—although, even this community deserves protection from other’s damages and hurtfulness and this time, there’s hardly any other way out.
When the pastor of the community preaches, does his message come from the ‘Lord’ or is Micheaux the messenger of confusing dilemmas that expediate inflorescence and incandescence for intentions that none of us should have ever crossed hairs with in the first fucking place, unless the New Black America is willing to out underground us by clearing the path for Africans to reemerge in caustic/anti-caustic environs, which salvage monastery from their most ancient of temples—Establishing ghostly dreams of these bygone years will out struggle your temperance (see also Carl Franklin and Julie Dash for new African-American independence.)
But how does a black filmmaker reattach to a silent film in order to detach with the right information? If silent films are boring to you—perhaps there is time to prepare the readiness for their secrets to a meditative ‘annihilation’ of two communities that must somehow ‘come-together.’
Only a silent film buff can transmit his own wave of discrepancies through an unmediated path of narrow-casted diasporas, which like a seed, will develop an Earthen comfort that ‘capital’ has a way of curing cultural differences by unburdening and blinding rhetorical inferences towards establishing the underbelly of the community.
At which point in history will we set aside our differences and work together to prevent street violence (unless there’s a time and place for everything.) Micheaux’s film however, sets up a structural, rigid and epic tone poem about how the cinema of African-American minds could be out complexities forever.
Here’s what I like about WITHIN OUR GATES, it is clever, concise and everything nice—it makes room for the loom of love. Starry-eyed gazers are allowed upon the first two viewings—But isolated screenshots make all the different fate and chance for the block of ages—different voyeurs come from ‘straight-shooting’ wonder-box scrolling, weighted down almost all cuts (if not all) do not track, zoom, or move at all, except through the rhythm of the montage.
In honor of Micheaux, I claim that ‘out of nature,’ prospective lyrics for young sons of the African-American begotten sensual intellect.
Where goldsmiths make mortal, golden boughs—
‘out of nature’
‘unageing intellect’
Artifice for the ‘bird in nature’
Is sensual music signifying
Trope comments on the subject
Regards to tact mechanical
Philosophy with precision.
The feminism in the stanza of a
Hazed context of a gold enamel
Seal to bring down the ‘Klan-o-sphere’
To be Byzantine…
--inspired by YEATS
Greek lesson
Aesthesis
Or an intelligent systematic
Theoretical hypothetical essay of
System imposed systems
Meets
Eidos
Everyman/woman
Intelligence
Diligence
Or
Systems
By contrast in poetics in soul of spirit ‘life’ and art collide with the EIGHTEENTH CENTURY—
Daniel Tiffany’s TOY MEDIUM for the lesson…
Yeats inspired again,
‘Before me floats an image, man or shade,
Shade more than man, more image then a shade…
Miracle, bird or golden handiwork, More miracle then bird or handiwork,
Planted on the star-lit golden bough,
Can like the cocks of Hades crow,
Or, by the moon embittered, scorn aloud
In glory of changeless metal
Common bird or petal
And all complexities of mire or blood.
‘later reflections’
Specular body in images, ‘epicurean,’ puzzling for complex meditation of corporeal
Technique, the power only works when
African-Americans watch the film,
Mechanism of
Institutionalistic public spaces
For debate what’s real and what’s
Not; deep spirits meet a
Demanding thirst with pointless
Philosophies for meaningful genealogies
To cross the contemporary observer
Phenomena palpable, romance
Enigma eidetic concept of
A province and stature never animate
Images unless you are successor
Of a literary critic in a swarm
Of fucking mediated images to glimpse
The scandal of a new doctrine—
Why cannot, we as American idols, idolize
The ‘African-American’ materiality pictures?
TOY MEDIUM QUICK REFERENCE GUIDE
‘corporeal phenomena’
Vs.
‘scientific materialism’
Aristotle’s ‘primacy of lyric’
‘Homeric warrior…in a temporal medium,’
Invisible or ‘suprasensible’ world (s).
‘resistance to communication’
‘CRITICAL MASS’
‘contingent upon…scientific models—
‘Tiffany, pg. 1-32’


CRITICAL CHOICES of FAVORITE MAGAZINES
1. Playboy
2. Atlantic Monthly
3. Weekly World News (for fun)
4. Fangoria
5. AUDIOPHILE
THE CINEMATIC CALENDAR
For the didactic, albeit, arbitrary year of 2010
(Movies of the Months)
DECEMBER 2009
 BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN
The second installment greater than the first part is again directed by James Whale. The horror of the monster on the loose after part one is used at the beginning. Then the bride is introduced, also made from the same reanimating process as last time around. Dr. Frankenstein even has miniature humans in glass vials. The horror films of Universal are key to classical cinema and BRIDE pushes the envelope in joining a romance with a horror. Sure enough, the monster’s fall for each other in erotic love. It would be a sweeter romance if they were not wanted murderers, zombified and rejuvenated by electricity. Mary Shelley is depicted in the film as a late ROMANTIC reading stories at a poetry gathering, or the like. The result is the great horror film BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN. A study in man versus his post-nature, Whale interjects his own style of man encountering the otherness of himself and defeating it before it defeated him. Frankenstein is a household name, the sequel demonstrates full creative retrospect, defining the genre of horror. A monster in question of his own otherness relates to his female counterpart. Even though they’re both dead, they have one hell of an emotional repertoire.

JANUARY 2010
-- Weekend
Jean-Luc Godard subtitles his film to indicate that it was found on a trash
heap. Interestingly, though, he opens with a lush erotic fantasy set in upper
class society. Parisian lovers Corrine and Roland (Mireille Darc and Jean Yanne)
explain their torrid sexual affairs in order to excite each other. Soon after
this, the couple set off on a sojourn to the country-side. Deconstructing the
bourgeoisie class, Godard emphasizes his allegory by using the metaphor of a car
on the road to the country as a playful indictment of French social structures.
The first obstacle for Corrine and Roland is a gargantuan traffic jam that lasts
for an inordinate amount of time. Godard’s genius for set pieces is on display,
as the helter-skelter of vehicles in the chaos of traffic overwhelms the gaze in
an endless tracking shot. After the jam, the couple find themselves in a small
town where a tractor smashes into a convertible causing a casualty. The war of
the classes turns into a political debate between the blurred lines of victim
and victimizer. Back on the road, the country-life at a glance appears utopian,
but is soon stripped down to hostility and despair. Anti-heroes Corrine and
Roland are hijacked by a stranger that claims to be the son of God. Darkly
comic, the road movie is on a literal collision course with parables of hell
(straight out of Dante). In a landscape riddled with the burning wreckage of
cars, a counterpoint of a flock of sheep wandering by adds an ironic touch.
Again, in their vehicle, the Parisian couple sinks deeper into the countryside,
which is a surreal playground of apocalyptic nightmares.
Western civilization collapses before the audience’s very eyes. Bodies lie
strewn about amidst the ubiquitous car crashes. Along the adventure, the two
travelers encounter fairy-tales in the woods in a postmodern gesture of
intertextuality. Corrine and Roland rid themselves of the nuisance of fantasy,
as the film too, offers no stable conventional pleasures offered by mainstream
cinema. As the couple grows wearisome of each other’s presence, they begin to
question whether they are characters in a film or if their lives are real.
Randomly another stranger rapes Corrine on the side of the road without Roland
lifting a finger to help her. In the film’s shocking climactic final act, a
group of terrorist anarchists take the journeyers hostage, bringing them to
their lair of music and Marxism. As Godard conceives the ending, cannibalism is
the only taboo left to uncover. Of course, the radicals in the woods do eat
humans and force Corrine to take a bite of her freshly grilled ex-lover Roland.
With all the subverted politics that marked the conclusion of Godard’s French
New Wave run, his extremism demarcates a world in need of desperate correction.
The director is unafraid to pull back from expressions of a hell-bound society
and he uses cinema-verite and Brechtian techniques for a full view of the
commentary on the hell-bound state of late-capitalism.

FEBRUARY 2010
Tin Drum
Volker Schlondorff employs the youthful narration of protagonist Oskar in an
exceptional epic of over two hours. The whole film is an experimental period
piece set in Germany during the Second World War. With an elliptical, yet
linear, narrative, the tale begins before Oskar is born. Schlondorff envisions
the early pieces of the tale with an opening and closing iris, beginning and
ending the early chapters. The first poetic moments of the film portray the
narrator’s grandpa hiding under his future lover’s skirt to avoid soldiers.
The prologue lasts until a highly artistic POV shot reveals Oskar in his
mother’s womb, born into Germany, unsure of which man is his father. At age
three, around the time he is given his first toy tin drum, Oskar decides never
to grow up. He falls down a flight of stairs intentionally to cripple any
further aging process. Oskar uses his drum mainly as a form of communication.
Take notice that he is never separated from his tin drum, due to his literally
glass-shattering scream. His underdeveloped, youthful frustration is taken out
on glass from his high pitched shriek. Only when it comes time to buy a new
drum, does he part with the broken toy. His mother ritualizes buying him a new
drum, giving her the chance for infidelity with her true love, her cousin.
Dwarf clowns perform in a circus to the boy’s liking and they beckon him to join
their troupe before fascists take over Germany. Nazi rallies are depicted by
Schlondorff in a Leni Riefenstahl-esque documentary look. Often Oskar views this
world as a hidden voyeur, given away by his non-stop drumming. He knows that the
drum drives people mad, but it is his compulsion to continue. He even breaks up
a Catholic confessional by banging the drum. Even though he grows into a
teenager, most of his actions illustrate his childish nature. He also senses the
constant tension between his mother and her two lovers.
When Oskar’s mother dies from eating too much fish during pregnancy, he further
represses his emotions. Barricaded in a Polish post-office, the stunted grower
observes war first hand. Disenchanted with the war, Oskar discovers romance with
a sixteen year old girl, Maria, and though he may be small, he knows how to make
love with her. Not long after their encounter, Maria turns to Oskar’s father for
sex. When Maria becomes pregnant, Oskar is certain that the child is his own.
Oskar finally joins with the circus performers to pump up morale among the
rising Nazi powers. His circus act is his natural, much practiced, talent of
beating a drum and screaming to break glass.
Opposing military troops siege Europe, and Oskar’s father is massacred. Finally,
as he watches his father being buried, he throws his drum into the grave to
symbolize the end of his youth. Maurice Jarre’s beautiful musical underscore
emanates with resonance as film director Schlondorff masters his coming of age
allegory.


MARCH 2010
That Obscure Object of Desire
Fresh, earthy and always original, Bunuel’s final directorial outing is foremost
known for both lead actresses (Carole Bouquet and Angela Molina) playing the
same role, Conchita. Avant-garde to the core, Bunuel employs doppelganger
trickery for Conchita’s tale, along with her comedic eroticism involving the
middle-aged Mathieu. It is he who tells of his detailed sordid past with her on
a train to Madrid, which necessitates flashback. Switching between actresses is
smooth and hardly noticeable. Both women convey the theme of the title of the
film, emanating attraction and mysteriousness. Mathieu may be entirely too old
for the lust he feels for Conchita, but her sexuality is overwhelming to him.
Her tantalizing enticements followed by repulsion of the sexual act confuse
Mathieu to no end. Bunuel sets up his characters as though they exist in a game
of besting each other in order to gain impetus over the relationship, which
otherwise careens out of control. Conchita eventually accepts sexual advances,
only to reveal a leather chastity belt that further outrages the flustered
Mathieu. Every scene that depicts Mathieu breaking through Conchita’s
elusiveness is emphasized by a series of rejections on the woman’s part to give
herself fully to her would-be lover. “If I gave you what you want, you’d stop
loving me,” Conchita explains. Though distraught by rejection of love, Mathieu
continues the pursuit of the girl of his dreams. Bunuel’s doomed romance is a
picturesque excursion through Europe, ravaging the viewer with playful
temptation. In fact, as Mathieu faces loving acceptance before inevitable
rejection, the tension between the characters increases exponentially.
Conchita becomes a strip club dancer, giving her whole body to strangers; while
she can never give in to the man she supposedly loves. This act of betrayal
exacerbates Mathieu’s frustration. Bunuel magnetizes his two actresses for an
alluring gaze by the spectator. Switching around lead actresses is a superb
technique to capture infinite feelings and moods of the character. As despicable
as she can sometimes be, Conchita, due to Bunuel’s subversive orchestration,
will, nevertheless, forever be desirable.


APRIL 2010
Sweet Sweetback Baadasssss Song
The film that launched the blaxploitation era is a monument to low-budget
independent filmmaking. Explosive imagery defines the melodrama of the life of
the man Sweetback. Fortunately for the title character, he is raised by
prostitutes, thus he has no problem pleasing the women in his life. But he’s not
only a lover; he’s a fighter, too. Sweetback fights back at the corrupt police
after they take down an innocent black man. Director Melvin Van Peebles borrows
heavily from the noir genre (with low-key lighting and an intense study of
character psychology) illustrating modernized ghettos with pimps, murderers and
hustlers. Sweetback is among the best example of a blaxploitation character
revealing a rise in personal consciousness to transcend his limitations. He is a
badass like the title suggests, but not only for wooing the opposite sex. The
film also depicts a search for the ultimate American Dream in a class conscious
arena, as the character rises above the streets to discover who he truly is.
The film ultimately portrays Sweetback’s triumph over the corruption of the
White American System, fighting against it by any means necessary. Truthfully it
is an imperfect film; however this film is of the rare events in which
imperfection leads to edginess, feeding into the deliberately intense style.
Sweetback has a misadventure through the ghettos, metaphoric of his own
self-realization. Again, like a badass, he escapes to Mexico after offing
several cops and getting off with several lovely women. Perhaps the greatest
contribution this landmark film leaves to the art film canon is its ability to
demarginalize the oppressed African American stereotypes in films of the past.
And while Sweetback steps over the comfort zone of preexisting film codes,
African American cinematic independence has never known a more progressive
breakthrough as this film.


MAY 2010
Spirit of the Beehive
Images of children’s crayon drawings in the opening credits set the mood for a
movie about youth and coming of age. The film within the film is Frankenstein by
James Whale. Simply screening the Whale film, the female child Ana sets off with
her sister on a quest to find the real Frankenstein in her world. Meanwhile, her
parents are middle-class, owning a beehive for a small amount of profit on their
estate. Yet, the children appear to be unaffected by the ambience of those
around them. Embossed in a golden hue of beehive colors, the lingering
photography takes in a total realism hybridized with a formalist approach by
director Victor Erice. Voice-overs throughout, so do in part, underscore the
visual feast of cutting edge photography. In the family of the central
characters, the father hears streaming audio of monologues about philosophical
ideas. As the children go on their adventures, adventurous film techniques
(particularly long takes) are employed. The children discover a large footprint,
giving away Frankenstein’s actual existence. Camera movements hang onto every
motion and every breath of the characters. Particularly from the eyes of a
child, the monster that is searched for is already embedded firmly in the
collective conscience of the audience. Innocence is fragile and is, in the film,
shattered into pieces by Erice. All of the acts of the film are immersed in
human interaction. However, a large amount of the movie is in near silence on
the soundtrack with an occasional interlude by the haunting score. As a mushroom
in the woods fades into a fireplace, symbolism is rife with experimental
metaphor, relating an aesthetic contrast between the real little girl Ana and
her illusory world.
Interestingly, the family is never shown altogether in a single frame, but
rather split up in multiple shots. Half of the scenes of the film are shot
indoor and half outdoor. Also, it turns out that the cinematographer went blind
during the filming, killing himself years later in remorse. Victor Erice is a
perfectionist, often taking ten years between each film he makes to deliver down
to the meticulous details a perfect film. Spirit is his first movie, yet it will
feel to the spectator as though they are watching maturation in essence. With
such long intervals between films it is certain that Spanish filmmaking history
reaches peaks in any of the eras that Erice directs. Each sequence near the
beehive elucidates an element of Magical Realism, which is embedded into the
film, symbolizing the combination of danger and power in small objects. It is a
film that will live forever, into eternity, as is its own subtext on James Whale
and the totality of cinema’s ability to produce dreams in children.

MAY 2010 SHOCK CORRIDOR
In attempts to win a Pulitzer Prize, an author named Johnny goes undercover into
an asylum to write about the system. In this Samuel Fuller outing, the best part
is that Johnny the protagonist loses his own mind little by little after
checking himself into the ward. With an African-American Klansman as a
room-mate, Johnny begins to descend into the nightmare of his own psychosis. His
girlfriend is a dancer and she disapproves of his project--however, when it
comes time to actually commit her boyfriend, he is too far into his own insanity
to do anything about it. The film self-consciously explores man in the grips of
subconscious take over when surrounded by aberrant patients. Perhaps the
psychological disposition of enough patients is contagious. Samuel Fuller
employs noir style to capture his vision of a shadowy hospital, full of
expressions of modern psychotic disorders.
Fuller is a maverick outlaw of a director entering the cult film domain
throughout his career. Here his exploitation and independence allows for a film
that has not dated a bit. The exotic dancing of Johnny's girlfriend is a nice
contrast to his own internal and external imprisonment. Fuller superimposes the
dancer over the half-crazed writer to juxtapose their circumstances. Audible
mind-screens narrate the twists and turns of a mind in torment and agony.
Johnny's quickly deteriorating mental state is presented subjectively, as the
film's fragmented narrative follows his quest to discover a hospital mystery,
only to become part of the mystery. The galleries of classic mental cases in the
corridor create depth in the experimental mise-en-scene. Johnny encourages
psychosis covertly among himself and others to discover a killer that may be
loose in the hospital. Along the way, the writer hits his breaking point and
snaps, regressing into a disabled state of being. The film never wavers from its
conviction depicting the fine line between sanity and insanity. In a
particularly comical scene nymphomaniacs attack Johnny and attempt to rip off
his clothes for forced sex. Johnny's encounters with dementia continue even
after his own breakdown. In an interesting turn of formal strategy, Technicolor
scenes are spliced into the black and white. The scenes appear to break up the
already disjointed continuity further. A rainstorm projects subjective
unconscious as the film pictures it pouring inside the hospital. The storm, like
the author's fate, is of a broken mind among broken minds, lost in the wake of
nervous breakdowns and shattered dreams, awakening to the chaos of insanity. The
unpredictability of Shock Corridor in a contemporaneously relevant theme places
it among the greater masterpieces ever made.



JUNE 2010
Seventh Seal
In the Middle Ages, as a knight returns from the crusades, he is let down by the
omnipresent absence of God. As the knight begins a metaphysical chess game with
Death (of which there are endless parodies) the story shifts to two actors, Jof
and Mia that contrast the knight by seeing the glorious visions of God all
around them. Still, death tolls for all the characters involved, and at the
film’s grim conclusion Jof has a vision of Death dancing away with his victims.
At a turning point in the film, Max von Sydow’s crusading knight looks at a
woman straight in the eyes as she burns at the stake. He needs to know if she
really has seen the devil. All he sees is terror in her eyes. God is nowhere and
the dark ages are overrun with self-flagellators and plague victims, all very
offensive to the knight’s squire who is jaded from his experiences in the
crusades. In fact, he wants nothing except for the knight to give up his futile
longings.
The stark, existential poetry of the Seal is heightened by Bergman’s own
soul-searching for the faith he lost. While Jof receives the peaceful visions of
God, the knight views only ruin, heartache, and suffering. In spite of his one
on one with death at the chessboard, nothing illustrates to the knight that God
is real. Instead Bergman’s allegorical iconography reflects the contemporary
themes of struggle in a world without redemption. The knight cheats death by
knocking game pieces over to save the life of Jof and Mia. He found his only
moment of peace when he stopped to eat strawberries with the performers. Thus,
he rescues them. However, there is still never an actual sign that he will see
God in this life or the next. In fact, the closer he gets to his own death, the
further he becomes obscured from the presence of holiness. The death that awaits
the knight is purely symbolic oblivion for the quest for God and truth in the
universe. Viewers will be amazed at the production design that is an uncanny
reflection of the Middle Ages. Settings include taverns, a black-smithery,
village squares, and a dark castle, provoking a metaphoric world twice removed
by time and space. Seal stands the test of time as being one of the greatest
philosophical journeys into apocalyptic agnosticism that has ever appeared in
the art film circuit.


Sensory Perception of an Artwork

Of all of the mystical and phenomenal perceptions encountered in a lifetime,
almost nothing is as valuable as the Van Gogh art museum experience in Europe.
The legend of the Dutch painter is pronounced in the Netherlands (in Amsterdam,
Holland.) The city of Amsterdam lives up to its reputation of freedom, allowing
citizens and tourists alike to smoke strong marijuana (not to mention there is a
rampant availability of hallucinogenic mushrooms.) After stopping at a few
“coffee shops” to get lit up on marijuana and mushrooms, I then journeyed to the
landmark Van Gogh museum and inside was the metaphysical journey awaiting me.
Once I made my way to the “sunflower” exhibit in the museum, my senses went into
overdrive. First off, what were fixed, static pictures of flowers, later turned
into an optical illusion of an animated frenzy. What I found particularly odd
about my hallucinations was watching small pixies leap from flower to flower.
While, of course, I was in an altered state, I began to somewhat realize that I
hadn’t moved from my frozen position in front of the painting.
I was staring at the cascade of multi-colored hues that psychedelically
transformed saturations of imagery into energy waves that I could actually see.
I could feel the overwhelming hidden truth of art emanating from the flowers.
They had become (after an uncertain time period of my transfixed staring)
rushing waterfalls that were like a mysterious answer to a prolonged “vision
quest”. Thoughts rushed through my head. What did Van Gogh intend for his
audience to see while they were under the influence? Was it fairy creatures
hopping from petal to petal as I had seen? The moving pictures continued as I
began to notice the mythological creatures of Japanese folklore (most likely
conjured by my intense study of mythology prior) dancing together in harmony on
Van Gogh’s flowers. Just to describe the strange “gods and goddesses” that had
found their own Garden of Eden in the painting, they were of green color and
they looked like miniature cut outs of poker card kings and queens. Finally, the
trip ended with what I recall as a gentle breeze flowing past me and caressing
the flower buds, chasing off the creatures that were living in the painting. For
as long as I stood there in a chemical induced stupor, the painting was in
motion. Thus, I love Holland, as it is a magical place.



JULY 2010 Rules of the Game
The perfect poetic realist masterwork is conducted by Jean Renoir who performs
as a catalystic character in the film he directs. All of the characters go to a
retreat at a mansion and there begins the multiple love triangles, which bring
together class satire comedy of the highest order. A quail hunt montage
separates the otherwise long take cinema from its two movements. All lovers end
up winning and losing equally, to the whims of fate. When Renoir directs, his
cinema is filled with lively split frames and depth of focus that reveals
parallel story-lines, merging to form an end result of exquisite poetry in
motion. It is when the household maid at the mansion cheats on her husband that
all hell breaks loose with an end result as calamitous as the elements that
brought the characters into each other’s arms. The poignant photography of
ensemble narrative merged into a long shot produces beautiful results. Renoir
takes on film as though it were a modern piece of art. For example, the
performance of the Danse Macabre in the mansion is reflexive of the director’s
own goal to reveal the decadence of the French Bourgeoisie to accuse them of
societal downfall. Without a doubt, the film sends up an irreverent code for
filmmakers to include elements within the frame (as well as offscreen space) for
an unforgettable mise-en-scene.
Of the main characters, the world-famous pilot Andre is smitten with the
gorgeous Christine who is married to a man that cheats on her frequently. During
the unforgettable hunting montage, Christine spies her husband with another
woman. The cheating justifies her emotions to leave her husband for Andre. Rules
of romance are transgressed and it’s every lover for him or herself. Christine
questions the maid if it is alright to just be friends with a man. The maid
denies this question assuredly. In fact, the fatalistic Andre would do anything
for Christine’s love and adoration. When she does give him the chance to run off
together an “accident” occurs that shatters their dreams forever. The accident
referred to involves a parallel subplot with the grounds keeper that is jealous
of anyone that goes near his wife, the maid. Believing that his bride is about
to leave him, he mistakenly guns down Andre, just as the pilot prepares to run
off with Christine. The film is exquisite, opulent and a challenge to the
intellect in its brilliant script that probes male and female relations. Jean
Renoir’s character in the film, Octave, plays for Christine, as though he is a
conductor to an invisible orchestra. Bitter-sweet imagery as this scene
crystallizes the style of French Poetic Realism. The film is as comic as it is
dramatic, varying between genres as fast as a fatal gunshot. Before Citizen Kane
privileged long takes and montages, Rules put the same pieces together of a
formalized systemic artwork that works on sociological levels, as well as
entertaining the senses.

AUGUST 2010 Battleship Potemkin
One of the ten best films of all time, the film is an experience unmarred by the
passing waters of film history. The technique of filmmaker Eisenstein was to
create a language of film through montage, like that practiced by Vertov,
Pudovkin and Kuleshov, thereby solidifying the Russian Formalist School.
Potemkin is an example of pure cinema, stripped of its unnecessary components.
No wonder the Russian Formalists studied the work of Griffith, especially
Intolerance, as the montage is lyrical, juxtaposing a compare and contrast of
images, thesis and antithesis, to create a synthesis of ideas. The story of the
film is quite simple. Meat goes bad on a ship, which is later the cause of a
frantic mutiny aboard the naval vessel, the Potemkin, and when the ship tries to
get word to civilians of its happenings, fascist’s gun down the unarmed peasants
on a stairwell near the docks. The bloodshed at the steps, during one of the
most meticulously constructed collision montages, never leaves the mind of the
viewer. It sinks in with hard cuts on dying cripples, trampled children, and
fallen victims of the bullet spray onto the masses. Eisenstein recreated an
event that never actually happened in history for his agitative propagandistic
message. The effect is without flaw. The docu-drama has a formal technique
unsurpassed by contemporary montage. A masterpiece that opens its textbook of
film editing language to all film’s after it.


SEPTEMBER 2010 Pickpocket

In Robert Bresson’s mastery he conducts a film that is above his others—meaning
another cinematic masterpiece from among the finest of directors. The
quintessential moments of the film are when the main character amorally pick’s
pockets. Later in silence, he lies in jail suffering for his transgressions that
had become addictive and turned into kleptomania. Bresson’s key auteur style is
in place with austere settings and sparse details. Impressions of people
stealing and being stolen from linger in the images of life on the city streets.
The pickpocket’s descent into his own existential nightmare brings forth the
discussion of transcendence through inequity resulting in imprisonment.
Bresson’s soundtrack of offscreen space creates an even more nuanced dichotomy
between ascetic sounds and pictures. Like actual Catholic icons, the ambiguity
of the decisions made pickpocket forever imprints on the mind the life and
habits of a prisoner. Compared to Kierkegaard or Sartre, Bresson’s own version
of high modern despair, isolation, loss and death comes to life on the screen.
The meticulous enactments of stealing are like a guidebook for the novice thief.
Implicit is also the discovery of lack of meaning in a cosmically indifferent
universe. Non-professional actors carry out Bresson’s details and convert his
urban jungle into a complete dystopia. Like Diary of a Country Priest and Au
Hasard Balthazar, Pickpocket utilizes quietness and stillness, focusing on small
details. At times the camera only views the movement of the character’s hands.
Without a doubt there are few foreign films to equal to this picture’s
magnificence and splendor, though it must be noted that sadness, apathy and
heartache might be side effects of the viewing.


OCTOBER 2010 The Decline and Fall of Western Commerce

The Russian experiment of Pavlov’s dogs proved that conditioned responses
activate a repetitious behavior in the animal kingdom. Ever since, the very same
methodology has been employed by greedy businessmen that search to sell
commodities, which have become more disposable by the second. Instead of ringing
a bell to illicit the desire for food, the merchants of our present day cluster
bomb of conglomerate culture, fall all over themselves to remind a consumer to
purchase yet another overpriced item that they quite possibly do not need. As
most clothing available at the local mall is most likely connected to
imperialistic slavery, the center of commercial attractions is chock full of bad
karma.
In fact, there is an essential flaw in the design of an infrastructure, which
bases itself on the paradigm that one must own more expendable merchandise than
the next person in order to initiate status as a true American. Contemptuous as
all this may seem, there is no stopping the mechanisms of a society based on
status-producing materialism. And the ultimate insult is that inflation
generally guarantees the object of desire is priced far higher than it’s worth
(not to mention, its cost of creation!)
The functional role of a mall is, in effect, a lure of hypnotic messages all
feeding the same frenzy of buying for the sake of buying. Without question, the
veneer of a working capitalist system imposes standardization of product in an
effort to cast forth a wave of guilt to those who do not buy on credit.
(Interesting how a credit card company now advertises that it is a crime to use
cash, because it slows everything down.)
When taking the plunge into the surface aesthetic of a mall’s backdrop, even the
most hardened cynic will feel the urge to drop some coin. The persuasion of
colonial empowerment is a life defined by possessions. From the escalation of
immoral Holiday sales to the jeweler’s blood diamonds, there is a lurking cash
cow around every corner of a mall’s interior. “All in good fun,” is an empty
slogan full of broken promises. Is happiness really gained by the amount of
money a person has?
Somewhere in this scathing critique of the hub of unnecessary expenditures—the
mall—there must be an upside to the void of shadows. The largest mall in
America, as David Guterson writes, is “an immense zone of entertainments.”
(555). Therefore, a basic need of cathartic thrills is fulfilled by the
implication of a compulsive shopping spree.
Yet, the very social activities based on purchasing high priced goods made to
last less than a year, create a climate inducing followers of the ways of the
mall to gather together and sing the praises of the fake institution that it is.
It is not accidental that in the movie Dawn of the Dead a gathering of flesh
eating zombies find their way to a supermall as though the mindless undead are
attracted to the structured space like some evil magnet is drawing them there.
However, consider for a moment that not everything about consumerism is corrupt.
A “primarily American phenomenon,” as Paco Underhill words it, is actually a
social step in the direction of democracy. (549). Supply and demand is still a
basis for the marketplace’s cooperation with the masses. Interactivity exists
for an educated buyer that does not take an item for face value, in that a
shopping mall overachiever could walk away with a bundle of cultural value that
they requested a store to carry.
Also, free trade is an issue that emphasizes bank rolled stores in a mall to
characteristically induce paranoia. Ultimately, one must succumb to the
pressures of debt to rescue the collapsing markets, as the global markets tap
into the beautiful apocalypse that is emptying pockets everywhere. In short,
scare tactics work.
A journey to a mall in an economic crises like that being faced at present, is
to partake of the death of the value of the dollar firsthand. A piece of cloth,
as mentioned above, is usually crafted by the suffering hands of an underpaid
worker in an exploitive textile industry, and costs fifty cents to make. The
same piece of cloth, in a mall, costs fifty dollars to buy. Perhaps the smoke
and mirrors of the local symbolic mall of the up and coming one world bank will
become the final addiction of the mass market. And, like Pavlov’s experiments
with dogs, sooner or later, the scientist will take away the meat, but produce
the same conditioned response, as though the meat were still there.---Jarren
Pope
The Passion of Joan of Arc
Carl Th. Dreyer’s finest achievement is a silent picture surviving the years in
a mental asylum, restored to return as the French Impressionistic Road to
Damascus. Joan is the ultimate martyr, conditioned by visions of God and Michael
the Arch-Angel. Those who condemn her are the judges of the church sent to force
her to confess or otherwise perish. Joan chooses to believe in her visions.
Though she worships the same God in the same church, she is to be burnt at the
stake. Feminists may analyze this injustice as her fate for exercising female
authorial knowledge of God to old men that have not seen the light. Regardless,
her martyrdom sets off an Eisenstein-esque riot, ending with the smoldering
stake of Joan’s demise. Paul Schrader contends that the film is transcendent in
its vision of Joan becoming Christ-like. Without repose, the great Dreyer uses
slanted windows and synecdoche of soldiers to connect the close-ups of nearly
every other shot in between. The entire masterpiece causes heart-break when
witnessing the hurt of the world carried as a burden by Joan.
As related, Joan’s trial is based on a document of historical fact, presented in
a montage of extreme close-ups. The old judges and the prison guards out for
Joan’s blood, pay no mind to her divine encounters with God and his grace. Thus,
she believes that her own victory is in her death at the hands of the unjust.
Forced by torture to sign a confession, Joan realizes that death on the stake is
a virtuous act compared to telling a lie. Judging here heresy at the trial is a
gang of villainous, angered clergymen, driven mad by jealousy of Joan’s personal
encounters with God. It is their mission to find every fault in Joan, to justify
her death sentence. Joan does her best to stand for her own defense, but early
on, the film establishes her inevitable defeat by the very church she sought to
enrich and enliven. In attempt after attempt by the prosecution to get a
confession of Joan’s interaction, not with God, but rather, an evil spirit (in
their eyes, the devil) they resort to violent torture. Joan’s reluctance to
admit the lie that she has conferred with the devil fuels the fire of the
brooding, fiendish older men, sending them into a rage, even though present is
the outward fact of Joan’s innocent, God-like soul. Joan’s unwavering faith
incites her enemies to send her to die on a stake. In her pain and suffering,
Joan takes momentary comfort in the shadow of the window to her cell, which
forms a cross. Renee Falconetti gives a performance that quakes the spirit,
awakening in the spectator the disgusting inhumanity that organized religion is
capable of in any time period. Dreyer’s depiction of the subjectivity of Joan of
Arc is transformed into the subjectivity of the spectator, knowing that upon her
final breath, a martyr of God has been forever immortalized by the art of the
motion picture at its highest point.

NOVEMBER 2010
Nashville
The gargantuan ensemble cast that wrote and performed their own music gave their
all for Robert Altman’s epic musical. In fact, Keith Carradine won an Oscar for
his song, “I’m Easy.” Altman’s direction of the film is akin to perfection,
mixing and matching the essential elements of a country music concert gone wild,
with infidelity, insanity and attempted murder all in one show. Nashville is an
assortment of lush color images in a whirlwind montage. Its dreamlike, illusory
quality of the seventies in action is a rush to the system. Karen Black’s music
numbers are among the best, topped only by the show-stopping final composition,
“It Don’t Worry Me.” Ethereal crowds are lost in the music, even though the star
they came to see may be dead. Altman is a genius of audio-visual overlap mixing,
here using his skill to outdo any of his other films by sheer talent of
composing a musical delight. He blends tragedy and comedy during a few days in
the hub of country western culture.
Throughout the film, jump cuts flash between story-lines giving equal footing to
each parallel plot point. Altman employs improvisation as artistic as a
Hollywood film can get. Of the cast, everyone, from Henry Gibson’s country
megastar to Jeff Goldblum’s motorcycle riding roadie, gives career-making
performances bringing together a tapestry of Americana in each vignette.
Nashville has a musical pulse, beating to the tune of a modernized, backstage,
all access pass to the concert of a lifetime. Heightened sexuality goes far in
the socio-political climate of the city. Keith Carradine’s country star is
addicted to sex with as many women as he can get. In terms of politics, a
diegetic narrator of sorts uses a van and a megaphone to campaign for Hal
Phillip Walker in a streaming monologue of independent party attitude that goes
on at unpredictable moments in the film. Jealousies, lies and dreams of stardom
collide in this unwavering fantasy of country music at its best. The result is
among the great legends of Altman’s unstoppable career. His enormous cast, his
wizardry with cutting and his meticulous sound design surpasses all the great
modern musicals. Yet, Nashville is more than a musical. It is a way of life and
a microcosm of fame and star power in American music. The dynamic and
exhilarating camera setups capture depth of focus in various lengths of time
onscreen. For example, the concerts are so realistic that the Grand Ole Opry (a
country music venue in Nashville) comes to life as a full-blown conceptual
experience. Altman’s impressive work on what seems an almost impossible picture
to direct is worth all the risks taken. The director’s talent will be missed and
Nashville stands as a powerful testament to his legacy.

ALSO TO BE SEEN IN NOVEMBER 2010
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
For cult status alone Terry Gilliam’s faithful adaptation of Hunter S.
Thompson’s book of the same title earns its artistic license on the grounds that
all standard film technique is disrupted to an extreme. On hyper drive, the
non-stop drug induced trip to Vegas careens out of control well before the pair
of drug fiends leave California on a journalistic assignment. The two
protagonists are based on Hunter S. Thompson himself (here as pseudonym Raoul
Duke) and his lawyer, played respectively, in their finest methodical
performances, by Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Toro. They stumble ripped and
twisted through Gilliam’s carnivalesque fantasyland of decadent existence of
life on the fatalistic edge. Thompson (or Duke) hallucinates bats flapping
around his convertible during the road movie section of the film. Duke and his
lawyer travel loaded with a cinematic record sized booty of almost every drug
imaginable. The subjective experience of all the drugs available mixed together
produces a tornado of surreal and frequently avant-garde expressionism. The
drugs even include ether, which leads to a helter-skelter venture through the
casino Bazooka Circus, a sequence that is among many of the film’s high points
concerning getting high. It is during this ether binge that Duke’s narration
describes the madman watching himself lose control to outright delirium. The
city of Vegas becomes Gilliam’s playground of experimentation. Drugs in the film
blur the line between fantasy and reality, which causes paranoia and fear to
creep up on the duo that are lost in the maze of the city’s neon. The language
is fast and punchy, uncanny in comparison to Gonzo journalism of the real life
Thompson’s invention. Any opportunity to overdo various drugs cause
hallucinations such as an orgy of lizard people, morphing faces and a six
breasted demon, to name a few. The doctor of journalism, Duke, takes his share
of the sunshine acid, which turns him beast-like, staring at a face that becomes
an eel and he even stutters out incoherent phrases about needing golf shoes for
his escape from the lizard people. It is no surprise that Depp studied
Thompson’s mannerisms for weeks to prepare for the role.
Covering a motorcycle race is a mere front to get down and depraved on a drug
regiment that explodes into nearly every Vegas transgression that could be
committed. Gilliam holds nothing back in what is the best of drug culture films.
Duke is likable in his anarchist, live-for-the-moment characterization. The film
rages like wild-fire from drug trip to drug trip, never letting up for a
breather except for narration laments on the dying generation of the drug
culture. Then again, no moral lessons are allowed in Gilliam’s frenetic and
kinetic film event of the 90’s. The montage spins the world of the film into a
reckless oblivion, with trashed hotel rooms and obscene belligerence in the
wake. The two druggies make animals of themselves and by the end of the film, it
appears that they are both going to continue their ways of the drug culture,
which the film, with any luck, has helped to rekindle.
The Paradox of Propaganda: The Anachronisms of Christopher Columbus

Note: (The page numbers from packet#1 begin at Stannard page#2)

Dependent upon the sources of history, heterogeneous sources preferably, the
pendulum swing of navigator Christopher Columbus’ controversial, albeit
legendary, voyages around the world stir up a hornet’s nest of popular
revisionism. That said, a study of the importance of his discoveries is, without
question, weighed upon by a lack of coherent evidence regarding his actual
relevance. There is a heap of categorical imperative in lieu of an indisputable
naval career that Columbus touts in his own words, “…I hope will be the greatest
honor of Christendom…” (Columbus Packet#1, page 57). At face value nothing is
wrong with a celebration of a man obsessed with travel, yet the new standard of
Columbus discourse is jaded, frightful, accusatory and remorseful: “From the
viewpoint of the first Americans…the European invasion of their world was a
catastrophe.” (Columbus Packet#1, page 2). Overall, a portrait of any man’s life
must be even—in consideration of the pro’s and con’s of biographical
information, sketched out over time, which so far have been both hyperbole and
legacy as about as assured as Columbus was that he was sailing for India rather
than the New World.
Whatever is demeaning toward Columbus carries the question of how could such a
perpetuator of genocide receive positive notoriety? In other words, the
proposition that a despot winning respect from history, may be as terrifying as
the havoc wreaked in accordance with such history. Surely in the future of the
world there won’t be statues erected to leaders like Hitler or Stalin in their
honor. Yet, take for example this article putting down the lost sailor: “It took
no time at all for the Native Americans who first greeted Christopher Columbus
to be all but erased from the face of the Earth.” (Lemonick, 76) Still, the
reason for mentioning nefarious leaders gone wrong such as those above, is to
defraud the notion that a realistic biography of an explorer like Columbus could
picture him as having offended the whole of Western Culture, or establishing the
world as a savage, colonial, imperialistic, and fascist outpour of everything
that could possibly be evil. In a fairer argument, if all the man did was to
discover land, and it wasn’t the land he was looking for, then how could he be
considered, as the one who, as another author presents, “opened the way for…a
historical ‘invasion’ of the Americas.” (Moore)
From the point of view of his own journal, which is a supposed fraud, Columbus
was excited about the passion he had for determining the trade route to what
would become the turning point of history. Now, history is open for
restructuring at any time when empirical data is added into the discourse. It is
without question that there is no truth to the idea that Columbus was the very
first to inhabit the Americas. Nor was he the first to land there. Consider an
article about European expansion recording, “The Muslim eunuch Zheng
He…undertook seven expeditions…nearly a century before Columbus sailed the
Atlantic.” (Columbus Packet #1, page 65). It is most assured that hostile
encounters with Native Americans led to an irreversible war against them. Not to
mention that the crew had a superiority complex over the islanders, as a
testimony illustrates, that the whiter the islanders were, the less
contemptuous, or as the early recordings explain, “when he arrived at the Cape
Verde Islands, (the islanders) were more black…” (Columbus Packet #1, page 77).
What kind of a message does this early document send the world?
Yet, with the popular anti-establishmentarianistic culture war surrounding the
defamation of Columbus, a question must be posed, which will appeal to both the
liberal and the conservative worldview: When worlds collide, whose
responsibility is it to determine who has the correct moral compass in the
evolution of human history?
This is not to say that oversights in the mechanisms of history are allowed. It
is neither to say that the spread of disease and rampant manslaughter of a
native culture is to be exonerated. Then what’s the point? In today’s society of
anti-culture, there is still an ethical value placed upon what culture should be
privileged to espouse views that have been deleted from the history books.
Typically, revisionism shouldn’t be viewed as unnecessary, as it has allowed a
marginal and functional truth to supplant the views of folklore. Yet, if an
ethical value can determine the functionality of a lost culture, then maybe
somehow the values of the cultural clash in this dramatic interplay should be
more closely examined.
There is a larger agenda in current society to remove Columbus’ divine longings
for accessing what would become a widespread phenomenon. More land to be
conquered interests every imperialistic faction, no matter the vantage point in
history. No doubt, Columbus mystified his journey’s in his writings severely.
For example, he claims that navigation is ” ‘art which who follows it…wish to
know the secrets of the world.’” (Columbus Packet #1, page 21). However, are
these writings of a lunatic that has no bearing on the democratic nature of
contemporary America, or is there something else at risk in the thought-crime of
at present day decision to redeem Columbus.
Here it must be noted that the innocent islanders, having their land seized and
uprooted almost overnight, were victims in the most “Hegelian” sense. However,
now that philosophy is involved, why not logically work out the puzzle. Research
posits that Columbus was some larger than life tyrant that meant to destroy all
in his path, considering, “the disaster began almost as soon as Columbus
arrived, fueled mainly by smallpox and measles.” (Cowley, 55). However, it
doesn’t take an exact science to recognize that whenever two cultures set apart
from one another are somehow brought together by unforeseen circumstances, they
do not just romantically engage in friendship. To be blunt, a culture of
hunter-gatherers and a culture of colonization are already at each other’s
throats before and after they meet, diseases or no.
Going back to the question of evolution of human history, another point must be
brought up. A lack of compatibility between cultures has nothing to do with a
group of people being more technologically advanced in determining which group
is technically responsible for the upkeep of civilization. Also, from the
cultivation of Native American spiritualism (at least, what hasn’t been
appropriated and rendered useless of meaning) it is already an objective truth
that peace was in accordance with nearly all of their ideologies.
Then why does new information keep popping up out of nowhere about Columbus as
some force of evil that set the standard for everything that is apocalyptical
about the early nation of America? A large degree of this is the attempt to even
out the playing field between those who were neglected in history versus those
who were writing history at the time that less research had arisen.
Clearly, the idea that Columbus and his men ,”oversaw the slaughter of Indian
people,” (Rouse), much like a blackguard, or the main purveyor of a sacrifice of
“a once happy race” (Pokagon, 31) is almost as erroneous as saying that he was a
demi-god ordained divine, or, “if he had been born in the time of the Greek
heroes, he would doubtless have been made one of the gods.” (Columbus Packet #1,
page 58).
Central to a thesis of Columbus’ factual role in history is that of the
dissident texts narrating this adventure, of which, everything seems to
literally miss the boat. While writers of antiquity wax poetic about the
overlord’s own journey, “under their rocks, by lifting them up one finds plenty
of gold, which is beautiful…” (Columbus Packet #1, page 59) another later author
degrades him and his men by writing, “the captain-major commanded them to cut
off the hands and ears and noses of all of the (natives)…” (Correa, 509). Isn’t
it almost always true that there is a gray area that is most likely less popular
in study, due to the nature of its lack of interesting details (for example,
there’s hardly a culture war if something is truly both good and evil at the
same time.) Thus, the view that Columbus was just a half way decent ship
commander is really all that can be ascertained after all the smoke clears
concerning his incitation of the American Indian Holocaust.
Columbus’ critics admit that his followers assured the natives to “have no fear,
we will do you no harm.” (Columbus Packet #1, page 69). And case after case is
storming out into popular history that Columbus really was some kind of monster,
inciting, “slavery for Africans, genocide and cultural destruction for American
Indians…” (Marable).
This brings out the final question: Which is more extreme, pro-Columbus
arguments that throw ticker tape parades on his holiday (which in the opinion of
this writer should be Leif Erickson Day), or anti-Columbus arguments that
attempt to hypothesize that he was the devil incarnate? Two cultures with
opposite point of views will at first, have a tendency to disagree with the
other. In response to his critics, a Columbus defender writes, “He is only a
convenient scapegoat for our own self-hate and our own very modern doubts about
the value of our culture.” (Sokolov, 82). In response to Columbus, his critics
write that he “has left Native people…in a state of emergency”. (Harjo, 32).
Damned if you like him, damned if you don’t.
--Janelle Pope—Mesa State College 2009

DECEMBER 2009/10
Calendar
For less than $80,000, Atom Egoyan, the art-house, independent, Canadian
director, concocts a treasure trove of enigmatic, improvised delight. On a road
trip to discover the best looking Armenian churches for a calendar, the wife of
a photographer as a translator gathers up details from a guide to demarcate
their journey of historical importance. Along the way, the photographer husband
(played subtly by Egoyan) becomes impatient with the trip, jealously accusing
his wife (played by Egoyan’s actual spouse, Arsinee Khanjian) of having a bond
with the guide. Exceptional formal technique incorporates video tricks such as
onscreen fast forwards. Meanwhile, between the exterior episodes at the
cathedrals, delightful, repetitious interior interludes of several attempts at
dinner dates take place. Each time the wine is poured, the female date of the
photographer is compelled to make a phone call in a foreign language that has no
translation. Egoyan studies the relationships of male and female interaction,
without wincing at the inexplicable emotions of imperfect marriages and staged
dates. The central couple becomes exasperated with each other, losing interest
in their partners’ hang-ups that tend to drive the film. Egoyan has a delicate
sense of experimentation of narrative, reeling in the viewer to determine their
threshold of satisfaction in partaking of a consequentially disillusioned
marriage. In a respect, the film is avant-garde, treating repetition as a normal
aspect of the film’s gaze. Between unsuccessful dinner dates and trips to
cathedrals, no overt coherence ever crystallizes in the duration of the movie.
Egoyan is a breakthrough mastermind of the surreal, treating every stop on the
journey as another episodic art piece. The guide within the film works hard to
explain the details of each historical site. His reward is an angry
photographer, dissatisfied with the trip around the countryside. As the
photographer readies glasses of wine for his engagements with various beautiful
women, they could not be more distracted by their own personal need to disrupt
the date for unintelligible phone conversations.
Egoyan is among the top of the greatest contemporary filmmakers for his
endeavors that lead to thought-provoking interpretation. His films are
whimsical, yet filled with melancholy. They are wholly original and often, as in
Calendar, completely improvised. The word auteur is often blasphemed and used
loosely, without thought. For Egoyan, there is no other word to describe him.
Calendar is among his greatest works. Once the rhythm and flow overtakes the
spectacle, a rapture of aesthetics overtakes the mind of the spectator.

END OF YEAR

JANUARY 2009/2011
Another Desert Rosian (Review) in honor of Matt McCallister and Cathy Caesar
MOVIE Review by Aaron Sheley—May 2006

THE GOLD RUSH

As Robert Downey, Jr. put it, “the tramp always wins.” The funniest of all
Chaplin’s films –houses rock and roll over ledges with Chaplin and Big Jim
fighting for their lives against the [Alaskan] elements and hunger. Chaplin eats
his shoe and then dreams of doing a bread roll dance on New Year’s day.

The conflicting polar oppositions are set up to all for intense difference
between the mythological hero and the Outlaws of the Rocky northwestern gun to
protect himself from cannibalism. When Chaplin’s tramp was over his love after
gaining a wealth of gold, Aristotle’s lost pages of comedy come to life.

First naive—bumbling round edges of rocky peaks and blown by the wind out of
cabins. Transferred by destiny, the tramp rises to finding the inner humiliation
of poverty and striking it rich.

The collision of writer-director talents at his own production company made foe
a film that reveals Chaplin’s most D.W. Griffith-esque understanding. Characters
drive plots through human interaction with sets and other characters.

A top 10 film.

CALENDAR OUT







TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
FROM MARXISM AND LITERATURE
I-Base and Superstructure
Base—the low point of human nature in comparison to their love for money

Superstructure—A plan to take care of these base needs
--In between there must be impetus—Hegemony—A whirlwind of interpretable
intertextuality—to take down the infrastructure (not in a harmful way) through
puzzles, mind-games, challenges and many hoops to jump through. Basically, when
you play the end against the middle balance proceeds…again like a categorical
imperative imposed upon Nichomachean ethics.

Traditions, Institutions and Formations
Bound by physics, shoved around by politicians and redeemed through aesthetic
ethics


--
Structures of Feeling
NYU prof. Dana P. once argued, “that the truth always comes out.” Isn’t it nice
when it comes out sooner than later—
The collision of these two statements produces a different feeling depending on
the subjectivity of the reader, for which all impulses are quite different due
to a number of conditions and responses, locking a mind and or/reader into an
eternal state of existence.

Dominant( to the first power)=itself (i) ;Residual (to the second power = x) and
Emergent (to the third power = y)
(i) Overload of information
(ii)x=Trickle down logic effects
iii-y=Emergent—risen to any challenge

PAXAE ROMANAE
(The peaceful wrath of the feminist romantic cultures)

LXXVIII
Textual Strategies (sample) Frederic Jameson
From The Political Unconscious
Essay response:
Metonymic (or symbols signs) qualify in congruence with antimonic and
non-symbolic signs) equates to a measure of intentionally confusing endecodable
myths that were never meant to be unraveled. Is it true that some oppositionals
should never come together—in fact, there is freedom in putting all icons, idols
and repetitions of such into categories away from the mind at least to clear
your thoughts for meaningful/meaningless word games, which too must pass in
order to get any peaceful work done in an era of refreshing clarity and
penful…Poising on all things unrelated to the mind, body, heart, soul, spirit
and ghosts.
Once these objectives retire themselves then they empty out, only to return with
many justified, durable, erotic and a greater sense of peacefulness.
All things are fate and chance, to another whim and this too is a word-focus
enabler—

Try this exercise
Focus on the word, “word”
What do the sounds of the letters create in speech—in mind? What if it were to
disappear, what would replace it? Faith in words builds structure, but what is
troublesome is undoing all words from the mind in an event to find new ones—“the
best new words in a common vernacular are abstract, made-up and unimportant
trite ones—this abates word-some,” usually due to redundancy—all formulas
condoned, of course.


(picture caption OEDIPUS MARSHAL ASPEN ART MUSEUM, PREMIERE 2006)

Final Fantasy II Hints
The trial of Mt. Ordeals
TWIN SOLDIERS (A WHITE MAGE and A BLACK MAGE)
A WIZARD SAGE (Capable of all powers, including sacrificing his life for a time,
for the inner meteor within)
BLACK KNIGHT—Bracketed by Magic (if all four Defeat the Earth Elemental
Threshold Guardian) they will allow the BLACK KNIGHT to face the mirror stage on
the mountain peak wherein the heart of darkness leads to a PALADIN of
extra-strength…)



LXXIX.
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (sample)
JURGEN HAMBERMAS (freelance ghost-writing in the name of)
From the Philosophical Discourse of Modernity (wish-fantasy)
Maieutic—Teaching knowledge
Already latent in the mind learner essay response: An immaculate model of
learned aporia (applied discoveries) delivers a textbook theory of sanitizing
word-games to diminish re-use of common and uncommon words that merge together
formalistically and un-merge realistically.
When writing, simplicity sells, however, it is the job a philosopher not to make
things simple, otherwise the mind would never reach its plateau of
stimulus—Currently, the blind idealism of critics that do not heed their own
words, live in a shell of isolated thought, which reproduces multi-textual
references points that deliberately challenges informative intertextuality (or a
growing body of philosophy.)

LXXX.
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
Michel Foucault
Las Meninas
Painting critique by Aaron Sheley:
In observance of LAS MENINAS in a post-modern dialectic as Foucault’s
(Barcelonian) analyzation of the painting’s context which heightens the whole
exciting experience. Foucault, the one man that outdo everyone at painting
analyzation (in a Contemporary Critic Context)
The painting (at least in the Critical Book) is copied in Black and
White—however its light and shade balances the image with Background Light
coming from a well-dressed man into a room through a door. The key of light of
Velasquez’ painting emanates from a spot-light-esque doorway wide open in the
foreground to the left of the frame. The fill light is faded brightness from the
other sources. Anyway, the young children particularly the young blonde center
frame center frame melds into a development of realism, only formalist in and of
the fact that it is in a painting.
However, the Classical theory applies in that there is an evenly-balanced frame
(symmetry), thrown off by source lights creating a gradient of shade) centered
between reality and fiction (although, it tends to be Realism in light of Cubism
and the Avant-Garde.)

FILM REVIEW TIME CAPSULE

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE
Tobe Hooper constructs a documentary style trip through the woods into a den of
serial-killer cannibals. Leatherface, the movie’s villain is the leader of the
vicious killers and he wields the chainsaw of the title. When a bus load of
hippies pick up a raving lunatic hitchhiker, the freak distracts them into going
off the beaten path. The horror of the film is to watch the young adults murder
one-by-one. The film begins with an unforgettable credit sequence as rotting
corpses glisten in bloody photographic carnage. The film enters a point of
chaos, especially during the cannibal of chaos, especially during the
flesh-eating dinner around the table. The madness elevates the standard of no
fixed rules excepting the brutal and inhumane prevailing over the weak. The
shock of gruesome violence reaches a height when a kid in a wheelchair is
chainsawed to bits. The nightmare is real enough to be haunting and by tearing
through flesh. The myth that is the movie will thrill for years to come.


LXXXI.
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES “If you live dyin, then you die livin…”
PIERRE BOURDIEU
(sample)
The Market of Symbolic Goods
I. Logic of Autonomy
II. Inventions have personal authorized impetus---Free words tend to speed up
inventors—Does word-crime exist to devolve the ego.
III. 2. Structure and Functioning
Of the Field of Restricted Production
Marketability and Usage
How long should an object be allowed to last—Will business collapse if some
objects are disposable?

3. Field of Institution of Reproduction and Consecration
Standardized—Structure
Structurized—standard
Only rare objects escape this mold—
4. Field of Large Scale Production “Cult of form for its own sake…” The larger
scale of the project, the sturdier the ladder for the underneath people to climb
carefully to the top (with someone at the bottom of the ladder to steady the
steps for the ‘Others.”
5. Positions and Position—Takings
Indices and sanctions
(moments that are “branded on the brain” for later use) and (memories that
should/or should not be remembered)

--

Value of money is function able aspirations rise to a point of ambition

Cultural legitimacy
And
Semiological relations:

Whatever author you read is your own personal interlocutor for being and time

Relationship with words and fasting for proof and reproof of words….

“piss aaron”—or, I can take the heat…


TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
CLIFFORD GEERTZ
Deep Play: Notes on the Balinese Cockfight
I- THE RAID
This dense and detailed article exemplifies the magnificent array of analytic
poetry that prosaically responds to an Ugly Rooster Competition to the death,
which implicates both horrific and comedic overtones, over-emphasizing certain
words to test them in different contexts
II-Of Cocks and Men
The word being tested most is “cock” how often do you read that word without
being lured into a sexual innuendo or do you think of a living creature put to a
fight for entertainment’s sake of exploitation.
III-Odds and Even Money
Although the article hides the meaning of the bet into almost impossible to
decipher rules, the point is that there is (in a cock-fight) a fifty-fifty
chance one of the two cocks will win—thus the odds are even in business senses.
IV—Playing with Fire
The objective of a cock-fight; Also burned in this unruly dimension of words and
phrases that toss up ethical boundaries to an unethical situation equal elements
of animal cruelty and violence that have no place except in this ‘Bali’ culture,
that the context of the story takes place, which begs the question: Should a
super-culture impose any rules on systems that exist outside of theirs—or should
they stay out. This article rides the line.
V- Features, Blood, Crowds and Money
Feathers—birds use them for multiple purposes
Blood—in a cock-fight, blood is pain
Crowds—a total moral breakdown to enjoy animal suffering
Money—the offering plate at this sacrificial ceremony
VI—Saying something of something
What is there to make about an objective structural/analytic take on a cock
fight. Rigidly grammarized and delectable in construction—the whole article may
go down in history as the most two-sided dialectical rhetoric on “cocks” and
their “meanings.”

TIME CAPSULE REVIEW MODE: Comedy

Steamboat Bill Jr.
In the wackiest of Keaton’s milieu he invents a seafaring misadventure worthy of
first class cinema. Keaton produces integrated tricks and gimmicks that provoke
the giddiest of laughter. Witness his homecoming to a father he’s never known to
take on his work as a second-rate shipmate. But the storms of justice blow apart
his port and Keaton weathers the storm in one of the all time great set pieces
of falling houses and flying trees. Keaton hangs on for the ride of his life,
bravely dodging downfall to show oft vaudeville roots. Always inventive never
predictable, like a storm in the wind, Bill Jr. survives the elements in a
method rivaled only by Chaplin. Comedy comes at a high price of daring but
pushing physicality to the edge is the satire of legendary prowess and has done
been outdone in the least.

MY PROBLEMS with the RELIGIOUS RIGHT
a. If you give freedom to one religion, you have to give freedom to them all
b. You cannot forgive “God” for anything, especially when it is human error.
c. When Christians forgive, do they really forget, unconditionally.
d. Maybe there is more messiah than one!:\THE TRUTH WILL CHANGE YOU

When money becomes narcissistic
When fame becomes egotistical
When power becomes Solipsistic
The Corruptor awaits



LXXXIII. Textual Strategies
(sample)
Edward S. Said
Intro to Orientalism
Essay response
First, let it be duly noted that out of respect for the Asiatic Far East and
what is/was considered Eurasia, in today’s grammatical selection, “Orient is a
bit overused, but still works in the context of this article as a nostalgic term
signifying a hotbed of foreign compatibility to reify the noteful particulars of
Asiatic practices, beliefs and statures.
Without a smattering of exploitation in intent this article compounds the lesson
of how careful to be when juggling around with the ideals of “otherness” clueing
in on tonalities of beliefs that have functioned together and through certain
twists of ‘idealism’ (found in free societies, like America) mix together
without as many problems. (American culture worships the Asian principles.)
However, neo-colonialism exists around every corner of our over-accepting
gratification of certain aspects of beliefs that have yet to be uncovered about
a culture that still in so many ways lies out of reach—for all kinds of specific
reasons, not yet discovered by our collective actions Western over-mediation.

LXXXIV. Textual Strategies---Experience is a thought process
(sample)
--Stephen Greenblatt—
Introduction to The Power of Forms in the English Renaissance—As a cause to
dissolute the anxiety-ridden events of plagues, wars and famines—the British
Royalty devised a burgoise solution as a means of diversion, impetus and
longevity, in the hopes to sustain life amidst class-structures that were
falling to the wayside to return values, social-structure and in the hopes to
defeat famine the aristocracy reinvented and reenacted Shakespearian diversions
(whether they were affordable to the poor or not remains an issue.)

King Lear and Harnett’s “Devil-Fiction”
Through “superstition” of theoretical awareness—practitioners of demonology
(this too, anti-humanist in so many respects,) played a trick on their cast and
crew by unleashing demons on their actor with “exorcistic” intents post-theater.
Perhaps the reason for a sudden belief in demons is to clear the air of the
stressful situations audience members suffer, when all hope is lost in a system
the false pretense of demonology stirs up emotions that later dissipate the
thoughts of spectatorial awareness, then all is well.
Theatrics is dependent upon the absorption and depletion of interesting value
systems that seem only to work in Renaissance theater—But why create a demon if
your only purpose is to destroy it? Fortunately, there is a sane disenchantment
to this article, which means that humanists hype up their own stress to learn to
take on other people’s problems, whence they have the time and experience to do
it. In other words, even demons have different connotations.





Save the Planet

By Aaron Sheley

Int. Large Tent--Evening

A gathering of witches gather round a fire chanting magical spells into the
flames. They listen to ghosts whose voices talk backwards. A great Hebrew king,
Saul, in disguise enters the coven. The leader of the witches recognizes him.

Saul: Consult a spirit for me and bring up for me from the dead the one I name.

The witch shudders, as her companions whisper curses.

Witch: Surely you know what Saul has done. He has cut those that have familiar
spirits and wizards from the land. Why have you set a snare for my soul-- to
bring about my death?

Saul: I promise, you will not be punished for this.

Witch: Whom shall I bring up from the dead for you?

Saul: Bring up Samuel.

A Hebrew man in a turban emerges from below the fire as the Ghost of Samuel.

Witch: Why have you deceived me? You are Saul!

Saul: Don t be afraid. What do you see?

Witch: I see Gods and a spirit coming up out of the earth.

Saul: What does he look like?

Witch: He wears an upper robe fine robe. Take a look.

Saul can see the holographic image of Samuel slowly turn to flesh and blood .
Saul bows and prostrates himself before Samuel, with his face to the ground.

Samuel: Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up from the dead?

Saul: I am in great distress Samuel. The Philistines are fighting against me,
and God has turned away from me. He no longer answers me, either by prophets or
dreams. So I have called on you to tell me what to do.

Samuel: Why do you consult me, now that the Israelites have turned against you
and become your enemy? The people have done what they predicted through me. The
kingdom has been torn from your hands and given it to one of your neighbors--to
David. Because you did not obey my prophetic order to carry out a fierce wrath
against the Amalekites, I have done this to you. You will be handed over to the
rising forces in Babylon, all of your armies will become theirs.

Saul falls to the ground, terrified by Samuel s words. Samuel exit s the room,
and the witch reemerges.

Witch: Look, your maidservant has obeyed you. I took my life into my hands and
did what you told me to do. Now please listen to me as your humble servant and
let me give you some food so you may eat and have the strength to go on your
way.

Saul: I will not eat.

Saul reluctantly sits down on a couch near a table. The Witch opens a flap in
her tent and a fatted calf is brought in. The Witch butchers it with a machete.

Ext. Wilderness--Morning

A vast expanse of torn apart wastelands stretches on for miles in every
direction. Strange mirages linger in the ancient war torn country of Assyria.

Subtitle: Assyria: 1011 B.C.

The mirages are of remnants of a leftover desolated culture. A dried up river
swirls and bubbles in the mud while large chunks of pillar rock lie in shambles.
The skeleton of a body lies dormant in the shade of an old battered tent. The
bones have a knife plunged through the stomach and rotten entrails. Twisted rock
embankments of sandstone and magnate trace the dying off of plant-life. An older
Israelite woman, Hannah, walks along near an oasis in the desert. She hands a
pitcher of water to her Jewish son Samuel who puts down his pet snake in order
to water his camel. Their camel is well groomed and feeds from the water that
Samuel pours over its mouth. Samuel wears a turban and a robe while his mother
is in a white flowing dress. Samuel kneels down to refill the pitcher from one
of the last remaining wells in his kingdom. Hannah lights some incense and burns
it near the well. Stray sheep wander near a mountain path. Samuel sees this and
unsheathes a large rod to break the legs of the sheep. After smashing its legs
with the rod, Samuel carries the sheep and lays it down near the well. He then
slit s the animal s throat with a razor blade. Nowhere to drain the blood, he
suffices to turn the beast s head toward the sand. To the right of an
overhanging cliff, a small pop tent leans near the edge. A man with a long beard
and a robe, Saul, exit s the tent and continues to the oasis. Yawning, he
scratches his back and watches Samuel build up an altar near the well. Saul
wraps a cloth around a staff and sets fire to it. Meanwhile, Hannah dips her
hands in the water of the spring to wash her face. She lifts up a small piece of
pillar from the ground. It unlatches and opens. Gas spills out of the pillar.
The smoke is blown away by a sudden dust storm. Saul motions his head for his
companions to seek shelter in his hut. The three walk against the now blustering
winds and head into a small open face cabin. Saul covers his carved snake idols
with a blanket and watches as the smoke from the pillar outside billow into the
sky. Saul kneels down to Hannah and touches her hand. Samuel begins to board up
the doorway when the Witch appears. She removes parchment covered in astral
charts. She motions to Saul and her follows her out of the house. As the
offering burns, the witch hands over the parchment to Saul. Saul walks to the
fire of the sacrifice and catches his own robe on flames. He removes his sword
and kneels in front of it. He falls onto his own sword. Samuel appears behind
him and puts his hand on him releasing him to the afterlife. Lightning strikes
the skies as a squadron of militant barbarians enter to loot around in the
remains of Saul s armory. Hannah offers the troops a pitcher of water. A large
barbarian. Ahauserus, pushes his way through the commotion. Samuel presents a
sword and shakes his head at his fallen comrade. The Witch begins to chant over
the dead body. She unsheathes a pagan fertility idol from Saul s collection. She
places the god over Saul. She removes Saul s pipe--a long pipe of a shaman--she
takes a deep inhale as Samuel lights it for her. She crouches near him and holds
onto his corpse. Samuel snaps his fingers and Hannah gently removes the Witch
from the scene. Ahauserus hands Samuel a map of the Middle East near the Dead
Sea and then exits with his tribe. Samuel examines it. Hannah begins to pray
aloud.

Hannah: Praise ye my master, for blessings of my son. The haughty ones will fall
before you, they who were once weak shall sacrifice the dust. Famine and disease
shall kill the unborn babe. Anoint us.

Samuel: That sounds like an old song. I think it is time for a long needed
pilgrimage into the city to see what else Saul left behind.

Hannah: Do you have respect for what is lost?

Samuel: Saul is dead and after killing almost all the witches in the kingdom,
the last living witch blessed his burial.

Samuel looks through a spy glass at a distant lit up city. He walks toward it
with his shepherd staff and robe. He shudders at the state of the coldness of
the wind. He stops along by Saul s pyre and examines the remnants of his body.

Cut to:

Opening Credits

Cut to:

Int. Prison Cell-Evening

A slave girl brings water to an imprisoned young man.

Prisoner: Thank you. Did you bring news of this book our enemy is using?

Slave Girl: The book is apocryphal. It is certain that the source of the text is
astrological.

Prisoner: The author is a madman. He wants to have the Assyrians wiped out after
they finish building his colony. In thine toil thou will find peace.

Cut to:

Int. Inner City--Sidewalk

As Samuel walks along with a gunny sack he notices entryways to small
marketplaces. He enter one of them.

Cut to:

Int. Marketplace

Strange looking orbs, swords and exotic foods made of sacrifices to idols array
the shop. Samuel tries out a sword. The storekeeper cocks an eye recognizing
young Samuel from earlier incidents.

Storekeeper: The thieves guild reports to me that you want to get back at the
soon to be king, Nimrod.

Cut to:

Int. Prison Cell--Present

Two guards attack the young slave girl. They tie her up and stretch out her
tongue with medal tongs.

Cut to:

Ext. City Sidewalk--Day

Samuel walks amidst the decadent city. He watches greedy men search for
prostitutes along a vain procession of the overly rich waiting to stand in line
for a sex peep show. Down the street is a temple to a foreign Asiatic God of
Chimera. Surrounding the outside of the polis temple are mermaid statues,
incubating live jellyfish in their center portions. Samuel finds the worshippers
in thick heavy black robes to be baffling. He notices his friend Barnabas at a
crossroad. Barnabas motions Samuel to follow him into a brothel. Prostitutes
beckon him. One of them breaks away from the crowd and approaches Samuel.

Samuel: When entering a feast, put a knife up to your own throat.

Samuel hands her a parchment, while Barnabas exits to the backroom. Samuel
wonders what the prostitute is deciphering from the manuscript.

Prostitute: The secrets behind this destructive force are vile and unworthy for
even us to infiltrate.

Samuel heads into the backroom and shoves his way into the middle of a meeting
of a large group of underground fighters. Taking a seat in the midst of them the
door closes. The sun shines through artwork of ancient cuneiform, projecting
images onto the wall. The men enter together through a hallway into the inner
sanctum of the harem. Fertility goddess idols burn with incense as many of the
prostitutes perform dance. A partly broken up wall reveals a large statue to the
Pagan God Baal, oddly in the carved image of what looks like an Aardvark with
wings. A man with a white helmet Gideon, works on a furnace machine producing
energy for the colony. Samuel exits to get some air, and on his way out a large
soldier attacks him. Samuel quickly unsheathes a blade from out of his staff and
dispatches of the man. He rushes down a hallway and exits to a wide open
gateway. A rock wall of a chateau stands beyond the gate. Samuel chants and the
rock wall opens before him. A spider web looms before his eyes. He tosses a lit
stick of wood at it and it dissolves away in flame, killing the spider. Samuel
continues down a long dark tunnel with over spoiled moss and larvae. With a
snicker-snack of the blade, Samuel cuts down vines of growing moss with his
knife. Small sea crabs skitter across a lit path that leads in both directions,
which befits Samuel s search for light. He opens up a parchment and reads to
himself.

Samuel VO: You will appear as though a threat to everyone.

Samuel enters a courtyard where an Ethiopian woman dances near an idol of a
hermaphrodite statue. The dancer bows before another idol of an Asura goddess
pole. Moving in on the scene, Samuel observes the well that the dancer stops at
to get a drink. Samuel shoves the dancer aside and pulls on a handle to drain
the water. The dancer opens up a bottle and lets fireflies loose into the
walkway open below the well. Samuel enters the underground tunnel boasts
paintings of the blueprints for a ziggurat, or temple tower. Samuel sets a small
piece of scripture up against the paintings and in an ethereal haze a crack
begins to form on the wall, out of which locusts buzzing softly at first gather
to a loud swarm. Samuel lights the painting on fire and swats away the plague
from him. The two guards who were torturing the young slave overhear the
commotion. In a swift move, Samuel douses them with gin and lights them on fire.
They run off and as Samuel chants, a rock wall closes behind them. Samuel knocks
on the crack in the wall with his staff and it opens further. It reveals a
cryptic symbol of a half-man half-horse. Next to it is a fragment of a small
crystal. Samuel looks into the crystal and watches a holographic image display
of his mother Hannah setting fire to a mountainside cliff dwelling. Samuel
snatches up a dead rat and leaks some blood onto the crystal. Samuel read more
of his parchment.

Samuel VO: Let thine deformed sacrifices be unworthy. The builders of this great
construct have read the book of power and banished it from the people in order
to keep power over the masses of the city.

He steps up to another statue of a pagan goddess. Another guard clamors before
the idol.

Guard: You ll never get to your God through her--She s a mere replica of what
our new God shall look like. Only her--the Queen--only she knows what to do.

Samuel: Who is your master, the grave or the torturer?

Samuel rushes up to the guard and without hesitating, snaps his neck. He removes
the guard s gold and armor. He lights some incense over the body, on the idol s
base. A large wrinkled giant becomes visible to Samuel s perspective. The giant
snatches up the armor from Samuel and walks away grunting. Out through a back
walkway a get together of street performers do a dance and song in front of the
nervous soldiers in their steel armor.

Singers: No greater was he in the kingdom that fought with demon gods. Commoners
among you, say to perish for the sake of your God.

They repeat this line of ancient spoken verse and guards move in on the singers.


Samuel: They ve done no wrong.

An overheard voice coming from a system of sound piping is of the would be king
Nimrod.

Nimrod VO: I alone complicate the people--not street artists. Goodbye, goodbye.

Samuel: (To Himself) The voice of the evil king Nimrod.

Cut to:

Int. Hallway--Evening

Samuel drinks a small drop of wine in portion form. He wipes his lips and sits
on a red carpet in the middle of the floor. The carpet begins to lift up around
him and teleports him into the sky. He finds he must go along with the ride. In
the darkening night sky, Samuel appears with a moonlit veil around him. He
stares up at Ursa Major. Far in the distance is a large construction of a rock
wall monolith twisting toward the heavens, with a large beam shooting out of its
peak reaching ever skyward. The carpet veers off and enters a cavern and parks.
Samuel steps off the ride to be confronted by the giant who now wears the armor
he took from Samuel. Samuel swings at him with a shepherd s rod. From behind a
warrior in a frock named Zerub cuts the giant in half with a short sword.

Zerub: Fear not Samuel, it is I Zerub, come to council of our dreams. I m aware
of the past, present, and future by having visions. Nimrod holds a grudge
against you.

Samuel: I have seen the writing on the wall.

Zerub: The fall of this kingdom means nothing to our people.

Samuel: Nevermind that. Much of your insight comes from having come in contact
with the book of the enemy. Tell me, did it have nice visions.

Zerub: I only wish I had thought of a verse so poetic. The words take you into
any world you want to go to.

The men exit the cavern and arrive at the edge of the Dead Sea. A young Indian
child stares at Samuel and watches as the two of them make their way to the
waters. The boy offers a small peyote plant to Samuel, which he takes and slides
under his tongue. He sees a vision of first a whale swimming by, then a large
demon head forms beyond the sea shaped as the Moloch of Israelite myth. Zerub
tugs on the drugged Samuel and shoves him into a rocky overhang near the sea.
The room is beset with levers and pulleys in a maze like structure. A haze of
black smoke clouds the room and flying orbs enter the room from holes in the
ground. The orbs begin to attack Samuel and he shrouds himself in his cloak.
Samuel jumps to avoid the onslaught and catches an overhead platform. He crawls
into an upper room only to view two naked succubae lying on a bed. They stare at
Samuel. At first they appear beautiful but as Samuel approaches to touch them
they turn hideous and demon-possessed. The nymphomaniac demon lunges to eat a
chunk of Samuel s neck. Zerub enters and silences the dream-like presence.

Zerub: Relax Samuel these women are already dead.

They enter through a curtain into the next room where two slaves sneak a smoke
at their small opium pipe.

Zerub: I have read that hand to hand combat is useless against the tower guard
tactics. Our own book of war reveals that we may not be able to use metals while
in certain enchanted portions of the tower s unexplored rooms.

Slave: Why don t you boys take a whiff of our snake?

Zerub and Samuel whisper to each other in Yiddish looking over a small scroll.

Samuel: I don t trust what all books say about war.

They wander out the doorway to an outdoor room where Zerub has left his
saddlebags. Out of the bags the two men drink down a small vial of wine noticing
the oncoming rush of heat from the overbearing sun. The nearby sea is at first
inviting, until dark electronic vapors form into cloudy orbs and move toward the
men while they are in mid-drink. Zerub unsheathes a charmed staff, glowing green
and he begins to swing at the levitating objects. A larger orb floats his way
and he dives onto it, ripping apart a control chip at the top of it, sending it
crashing down. The wall behind them opens and a large apparatus in the shape of
a monolith has an old man riding above the two men on a floating idol God.

Old Man: I worship the queen and her alone. If you want to destroy the rest of
what you ve created, do it on your own time lost sheep. Worship the Queen and
live forever.

Samuel: Come down and fight us.

From the old man s idol appears a holographic map of the Mediterranean.

Old Man: Now that this land is no longer under water, I m taking it over. In
years who knows what kingdoms we could all establish.

Two women s heads appear, one similar to Medusa and one in the shape of a gourd
stare at the men laughing in a wisp of smoke. The two faces merge into one.

Samuel: Whore of Babylon, I beseech you.

The faces disappear into a veil of smoke. Samuel and Zerub shudder in disgust
and exit to a dwelling near the sea.

Samuel: What re we doing on sacred ground?

Zerub: Our verisimilitude cometh forth.

Samuel: We might get imprisoned beyond this point.

Zerub: I was pardoned by the royalty. They are quick to return their exchanges.

Exiting the dwelling they come upon a long path where two women are bathing in
the streets.

Zerub approaches the women.

Zerub: Do you know that I have friends like you who are trapped in prison.

The women laugh to themselves and shrug. Zerub smirks and returns to Samuel.

Samuel: What are they too young for you? Imagine the number of women we will be
entitled to when this whole thing is over.

The two of them walk past the ogling young women. Vehemently enjoying the site
of the girls, Samuel pauses and breathes in a large breath. He lets the air out
and walks behind Zerub, following him back to the dwelling.

Cut to:

Int. Prison Cell--Present

A prisoner aims a large spyglass out his window.

Cut to:

Spyglass Point-of-view: A rock-like monolith fades into view.

Cut to:

Int. Prison Cell

The prisoner shudders and addresses his prison-mate.

Prisoner: They must now fight against those who worship the beast.

Prison-Mate: What other objective is there in reality?

Cut to:

Int. King David s Temple--Day

The palace is shrouded in mystery and desire. Idols have been smashed to pieces,
and naked statues are crumbling. David, a man looking of African origin, writes
down music ideas frantically.

David: Saul s Final Resolution

A young concubine enters the room applying purple dye from a Phoenician conch
shell.

David: Would you like some left over statues?

Concubine: I wouldn t mind. I kind of like some of this old stuff.

David: Asura s rising from the ashes.

The concubine slings herself in his arms and wraps herself up. She kisses him
below his chin and he laughs at her. He looks up at an astronomical clock,
similar to a sundial, and notices that something is wrong with the time.

David: The Whore of Babylon sell s goats’ blood to those that think they buy the
blood of sheep.

Concubine: I wouldn t worry too much about Passover anymore.

David: I must have the wisdom of a serpent.

As David pours over manuscripts the concubine lights his pipe with a stick of
fire and sets it before him.

David: Saul never gave up smoking. Once he claimed it was forbidden. Like a type
of black magic.

He takes a smoke and leans on a pillar thinking to himself about how to rebuild
his kingdom. He skims through the text of a book. He closes it and thinks to
himself. The concubine tends to the incense. She opens up a coconut for David
and then moves to a new row of incense, lighting it and then seats herself on
the floor. David seats himself next to her. She feels his chest and he relaxes,
takes a deep breath and lies down in her lap.

Concubine: If you read about the beast, it says the beast can leave the Earth
and walk on the heavens. Did you know you can leave your physical body behind at
any time and travel anywhere?

David: If people could time travel then I would have seen the wrath of God
coming upon them.

The concubine shakes her head and walks to the altar to set up a pagan idol. She
attempts to seduce David through dance. He is too dizzy from his studying to
notice. She begins chanting to foreign Hindu Gods, while David sips his wine.
Out from behind him a demonic wraith emerges from a fallen idol. David removes a
charmed crossbow from an open treasure chest. He darts an arrow at the
apparition. The arrow pierces it and the demon turns into a devilish skeleton
that falls into a pile of dust. A few children enter the temple to view the
commotion. All of them are startled by a vision that displays from the fallen
idol. Slave builders labor over cogs in a machine room. After the vision goes
away, David addresses the concubine as the children leave the room.

David: You understand, in the future a great king will make a replica of the
tower that has been passed down for generations.

He shows her a picture of a ziggurat--or large erect tower.

David: The cuneiform on the tower represents a structure of gates and entrances.
Babylon is the greatest of the ancient final gates. The empire has been built
and rebuilt. A Hittite king nearly wiped out the city once and vassals demanded
the loot. Caste systems delineate the worship of their militant leaders.

Concubine: We must find a way to unite our people who are imprisoned alongside
the laborers.

David: In the land of Shinar between the Tigris and Euphrates the builders have
united under a common language to build a new temple of brick. The temple is to
be so vast that you could get lost in its core. The Babylonians seek to reclaim
domination as a world power.

Concubine: If the Hebrews are locked up, how can they fight?

David: No one knows where all of them are.

Concubine: There is no other burden than a moment s bliss.

David: Our enemy uses the tower for time travel through astrological planes. If
we could tap that magic we might be able to find our renegades. Samuel, the king
s mage, has been sent back by the deceased king Saul.

Concubine: Samuel died, long before Saul.

David: Saul has summoned him with a witch. He has traded his own life to bring
him back.

Concubine: What can the ghost of Samuel do to stop the Whore of Babylon?

David: The Babylonians sacrifice their first born to the Whore of the sun to
keep it going around. Samuel is just as good to us dead as he is alive.

Cut to:

Int. Royal Hallway--Day

Three young beautiful angel-like female priestesses known as Seraphs clothe
Samuel in knight armor and Zerub watches as they do it. Zerub exits.

Cut to:

Ext. Hill Outside the Palace--Day

Zerub climbs to a vantage point, tiring out from the steepness. The hill
overstretches an embankment and a grassy field. The Seraphs and Samuel are seen
from afar. The seraphs escort Samuel to the grassy field and dance around him,
waving their multi-colored dresses.

Cut to:

Ext. Battlefield --Evening

The Seraphs are gone and Samuel stands alone clad in full armor plate-mail from
boots and belt to shield and helmet. He practices with his new middle-sized
sword, swinging it in combat moves. Out of the sky comes images of spiraling
stars. A dragon-shaped Leviathan beast flashes out of an astral plane returning
from image to flesh and blood. Samuel launches a bolt of fire from his glowing
sword. The dragon swirls and recoils from the blast. It s eyes open with a
vengeance as it flitters around like a large flying centipede in the void. Giant
spiders drop from its scales and land in a swarm on Samuel. With a twist and
spin he slices up the creatures. For the remaining spiders he opens a vial of
powder and they are knocked unconscious by the overpowering odor. The dragon
swoops down and breathes fire on Samuel s shield. He tosses a burning stick of
explosives at the beast. Zerub from the hillside, casts magic spells into the
air. Small meteors crash down from Zerub s spell casting. The dragon is impacted
by the attack but still manages to swoop alongside Samuel and knock him on his
back. The beast flies the other direction to attack Zerub before he can get
another spell off. The dragon s head changes into a sphinx.

Zerub: Come see your shadow rise up to meet you.

From Zerub s hands, a cloud of smoke cinders and burns the dragon s eyes sending
it reeling into the sky to regain its sight. Zerub casts a spell over the clouds
so that they can lift Samuel into the sky. Samuel positions himself on the
floating clouds as they raise from mere wisps on the ground. The clouds swirl
around him while he rides on mists of winds. He rides the clouds to a place in
the sky to attack the dragon from. On the dragon scale beneath the ankle there
appears to be a vulnerable portion of dragon flesh. Samuel strikes the flesh
with his sword and the dragon twists and lets out a horrible scream that causes
the ground to shake with an earthquake. The ground breaks apart near Zerub and
he falls into a dark abyss. The clouds set Samuel down. The dragon runs aground
and lets out a pterodactyl-like squawk. It takes two steps backward and lets out
a stream of fire from its mouth. Samuel runs to dodge the rising flames and
escapes into a crater caused by the earthquake. Samuel breathes heavily and
dragon claws reach into the cave to snatch him out, but he s just out of reach.
The dragon, thus, flies into the night sky and dive bombs the crater. Samuel
holds his shield above his head to block the flames from the oncoming attack.
Dragon fire launches like a tidal wave against his shield. The shield absorbs
the magic power of the fire and collects energy. A burst of energy launches out
of the shield over the fire and sends an electrical shock through the dragon.
The beast molts its skin to reveal a bluish scaly layer. Wings burst forth from
the monster s slimy flesh. Zerub emerges from a hole in the ground, casting an
aura of winter upon the battleground. The half crescent moon in the sky eclipses
with icy fog Samuel s breath can be seen as he winds up for another shot at the
dragon. Zerub casts a sharp wind from his charmed shepherd staff and it knocks
the dragon out of its flight pattern. The wind knocks Samuel off his course as
well, so he picks himself up and clanks back into battle. He shoots off a beam
of energy from his sword that collides in its path with dragon fire. The dragon
shrieks a war cry and a heavy rain cuts through the fog into the scene. Samuel
approaches a lighted pathway. He is winded by the cold weather. Zerub sees him
and blows on a trumpet which causes the icy storm to die down. On another
elevator of clouds the men rise up to meet the dragon and they attack
emphatically with their swords. Samuel does a dash attack in the sky slicing at
the dragon with full swing. Missiles of fire fly at them like flame throwers,
knocking their swords away. Samuel tosses small balls of wax and fire at the
beast . The creature lets out a laugh at such a pathetic sight until one of the
balls of wax hits the dragon square in the eyes. To retaliate the dragon darts a
flame and Samuel bounds from the clouds to the side of a cliff to avoid the
spray. He then does a back flip over the dragon s head and sends a handful of
dynamite like explosives crashing into its beak. As its beaks explodes Zerub
summons water from the grounds which hardens wraps the creature up in ice. The
beast collapses to the ground smashing into the rocks below. Zerub electrocutes
the remains baking the pieces of dragon to a crisp. Samuel and Zerub walk toward
the ashes. Zerub spikes a piece of dragon meat with a mace and pulls the meat up
to his lips.

Samuel: Is not this meat forbidden to our people?

Zerub: Our rations are low. It is our sacrifice.

Zerub digs into the monster s flesh for food, while Samuel sets up a tent and a
campfire. The two men huddle under the light storms in the sky watching as small
spirits rise through their fire. A small lamb appears on the hillside and Samuel
quickly rushes in, slicing its throat open. He carries it to the fire. Zerub
smiles and sets down the dragon meat to tend to the lamb sacrifice. He surrounds
the fresh kill with spice and incense. A veil of obscure light shines around the
two men coming from stars descending from the sky in the distance.

Cut to:

Ext. Abandoned City--Evening

Large pillars and columns fill the scene, while a man runs with three women
huddled under a blanket.

Cut to:

Int. Hideout--Evening

An old Hebrew man lies in bad, sick out of his mind. He claws at the raw boils
on his arms. A dying maiden sings to him, choking to death from boils of her
own.

Old Man: To find again that sphere of indulgent jealousies. Who will replenish
our tribe, fair maiden?

Cut to:

Int. Tent--Day

A Hebrew man named Dan rolls dice in front of his concubine, Astaroth.

Astaroth: I say we just forget we were ever here. In this place people become
animals.

Dan: We could divide this land up for our children.

Astaroth: Our children? What if the Babylonian king steals our children and
sacrifices them for his precious sun worshippers?

Dan: Then, on that day, may the angel of death come upon him.

Cut to:

Ext. Mountainside in Zion--Evening

A shadowy man holds leftover inscriptions of a book, praying to the moon by
chanting in tongues. He stands next to the Leftover remnants of a Hebrew
territory. A female prostitute leans up next to a wooden canvas, watching the
man cast a shadow puppet theater of an ancient dragon. The fire that lights his
shadow puppets, comes from the fire of the city of Zion. The man makes a puppet
of a horse with all four of its legs bounding from the ground in motion. The
prostitute applauds the spectacle. The dragon reappears in the smoke and grows
larger until it begins to turn into an image of the God Baal--Like a goat and
calf mixture. The Behemoth grows in size, its horns of gold radiating with
flames. The fire lights up the night sky revealing the horizon to the
prostitute, and the Tower of Babel appears ominous in the distance. The woman
spies in on the tower with her telescope and the King and Queen are in her sight
at the peak of the tower. The tower appears to be moving slowly. The structure
of it is similar to an ancient ziggurat. A ray of light shines forth from the
tower to blind the prostitute from a distance, while the old man s puppet
theater vanishes, and along with it the Behemoth in the sky. The shadow man with
the book, shines fire light through a large magnifying glass toward the tower,
compensating for the light shining on him. The light shines toward the Royalty,
and the prostitute quickly puts back up her spyglass. Again she sees the King,
closer now, as a hunched balding man, with lit up metallic devices attached to
himself. Next to him is the Queen, alive and breathing, yet holding her
dismembered head in her lap. She paints eye-shadow on her face. She pulls on a
lever and feathers descend from the side of the monolith. Streams of water rush
out into the valley. Pipes appear spread out under the flowing water. The
prostitute follows the water with her spyglass and notices Samuel and Zerub
clinging to the side of a pipe as the flood rushes over them. Refocusing her
gaze back to Nimrod, she watches as he sits upon his thrown of mirrors, shaped
like an obelisk. He reaches into a treasure chest next to him and a force field
appears upon his touch, surrounding it like a barely visible globe. A large
sacrificial altar with an idol of a scarab beetle is placed before him by a
slave. The idol has an Egyptian inscription. A young male child is placed into
the altar. Nimrod unsheathes his knife to kill the young child. The prostitute
looks away in horror. She then peers out of the glass to see a crane lifting a
pipe with Samuel and Zerub losing hold of their grip. Zerub shoots a bolt of
electricity at a mechanism that blocks their path, knocking it off of the side
of a hill. The crane drops the men off at the entrance of the tower.

Cut to:

Int. Tower of Babel

At the entrance of the tower of Babel, open windows reveal the moving stars in
the night sky. A statue of the Goddess Asura outstretches its arms, similar in
look to a Greek Aphrodite, near the door. A dead goat is chopped into piecemeal
and strung over the entrance way. A guard rushes onto the scene when he sees
Samuel and Zerub entering the sacred ground. Quick to react, Samuel breaks open
a bottle of leeches, throwing it onto the guard. The leeches chew a hole in the
guard s bleeding neck. A large pendulum hangs over the remainder of the
entrance. On the pendulum are markings of past eras denoting the Babylonian
Empire, as a vast network of cities. Samuel and Zerub enter a large hangar-like
structure. A small storm is gathering in the building. Brilliant lighting
flashes precede an appearance of an amber aura in circular form. From the center
of the shape four beings that look human emit light. Their feet are golden in
bronze. They each sprout wings, which spread out and collide into each other.
The faces of the supernatural humans contort into three headed animal designs of
an ox head on the left side, a lion head on the right side and an eagle head on
the backside. Lightning flashes between the sentient beings. Their bronze feet
become wheels, sparkling with crystal rock. As the wheels turn the beings move
along a perpendicular line in the hangar. Their wings swish through the air,
sounding like a roaring ocean. Samuel feels threatened by their presence.

Samuel: Sons of man, why have you come to beseech us?

The beings shriek when a beam of light shoots up from the ground. The floor
opens and a large oracle emerges from under the room carrying writhing snakes
and naked soothsayers. The soothsayers take a drink of poison and collapse,
shaking into the snakes. From the orgy of snakes, the human form of the Greek
Goddess Persephone shoves her way out of the oracle. The Goddess adjusts her
spiked bronze helmet and red silk robes. She shushes the creatures, a few of
them shriek one last time, and they fly out of the room.

Persephone: I am Persephone, from the land above and the underworld. Samuel,
take my offering.

She delivers unto Samuel an ancient long sword of the finest masonry and he
flings the blade through the air. He smiles and sheathes the steel sharp edge in
his back satchel. Persephone returns to the oracle and it sinks back into
underneath the hangar. The floor closes behind it. Entering the room is Micah, a
wiry man with curled hair and a moustache, wearing a monocle and an ephod, or
Ancient Israelite priest robe. He carries with him an idol of the angel of God,
with eyes covering its body.

Micah: Long ago I stole eleven hundred pieces of silver from my mother. I
returned it to her and she took it to a silversmith to reward me by having idols
made. Most of them have been stolen. Some witches from your homeland got a hold
of one of them and that s how they ve brought you back from the grave.

Samuel: I am here to finish King Saul s task, not to do the bidding of witches.
Do you think I should cease my task?

Micah: I ve often questioned the value of what your involved in Samuel. The Gods
tell us that everything has occurred that is occurring right now. In fact, it
will all happen again. Down to the last cobweb. Isn't that the theme of the day?
Everyone should decide what's right for themselves.

Zerub doesn t really understand the meaning of Micah s diatribe. A mechanistic
center of an elevator shaft lowers into the room and the three men cling on to
it. The Elevator Operator looks at his three riders in dismay.

The Elevator Operator: What do you know of Fire that our God does not understand
better?

Cut to:

Int. Tent--Day

Dan is a nervous wreck as David enters his tent.

Dan: King David, have you come for my last piece of property? My vineyard
perhaps?

Dan lunges at David with a knife and David dodges the attack.

David: Spare me, Dan, spare me. You know what I m after don t you? I want to
find the witch who cast that magic spell to bring Samuel back from the grave. We
must find the woman in order to send Samuel back into Hades before his presence
disrupts us any further.

Dan: Let me consult with my mistress. She s a heifer, but she knows about dark
magic from her native lands in the East.

Cut to:

Ext. Mountainside--Day

The Old Man with leprosy takes a stick and rips a hunk of the gruesome flesh off
of his arm. He hobbles on his legs when from nowhere his two friends who are
both ex-slaves turned priests come to his side to console him.

Old Man: Away from me

Cut to:

Int. Tower of Babel--Day

Walking past crowds of laborers busy working on the endless tower, Samuel and
Zerub stride along down a corridor and arrows fly past them. They peer into a
doorway and Gideon stands before him, in his finest archery gear.

Gideon: The puzzle to this place is that the more you go around it, the more all
the words you ve heard begin to make sense. Once an ancient Babylonian bought
property when the kingdom was only beginning to flourish. He was promised the
entire kingdom, insofar as he left all the relics in the treasury. Nimrod stole
those relics and using their power put together a book with a plan to contain
all of the knowledge of books in this one single book that only he had access
to. In the process he learned to control astral planes and travels throughout
the vortex.

Samuel: Nimrod has exploited the dark magic of the ancient sages.


Gideon: Considering the shock of the recent warfare waged on Barbarians, Nimrod
has usurped their rebellion to control all of the cities. There are so many
captive in the tower that the languages have gotten confused amongst the
workers. They are spread out too far. And what will you do when you reach the
top of the tower? If you reach the top you will be cast down . And yet you fear
no harm will come upon you?

Gideon leads the men to a passageway where there is a large furnace. Next to it
is a table with a pitcher. Zerub pours some water from the carafe over his hands
and dries them over the fire in the furnace. Samuel takes a sip of the water.

Samuel: Poison. Oh well, I think I ll take my chances.

He drinks the contaminated water and passes it to Zerub. A beam of electricity
in the form of a three dimensional pyramid materializes around the witnesses.
Creatures begin descending like floating jelly fish from the top of the pyramid.
Zerub freezes the poisoned water in the vase, and throws the ice ball at the
creatures. Samuel opens up a book and utters a chant that causes three flying
orbs to follow the ice attack. Gideon finishes off the creatures with his bow
and arrow, timing his shots to be exact. From the center of the pyramid a large
map of Babel s tower structure is beamed in on a holograph. As the image
displays, Samuel falls to the ground and coughs up blood. Zerub leans to him and
heals his poison with a touch. The blood dries up, Samuel shudders and views the
holographic infrastructure of Assyrian craftsmanship. Out of the furnace slides
an idol of a goddess with six arms and a diamond in her forehead. Hannah s voice
is heard from the idol.

Hannah VO: The time draws near my son for us to leave this tower and set free
the prisoners.

Candles in the passageway flicker.

Cut to:

Int. Tower of Babel Library--Evening

The interior of the library is ethereal. It is made up of an indefinite number
of hexagonal galleries, with vast air shafts between, surrounded by very low
railings. From any of the hexagons one can see, interminably, the upper and
lower floors. King David reads a book to Dan from a shelf that casts a glow over
his face.

David: The power of the book is its ability to control the minds of the dead
through necromancy and astral projection. So by transporting a mind through
time, it enters another mind, and puppeteers the ghosts of the dead.

Dan: But David, Samuel is under the covenant. He is not controlled by anyone.
Then why would he face the Babylonians alone, especially after dying?

David: Because, like him, they ve returned from the dead. Their new tower is a
replica of one they built thousands of years ago. Through astral projection,
their culture has again become a dominant force in metaphysical reality.

Dan: So is the tower real? Are the King and Queen of Babylon real? Or is it just
a copy?

David: That s for Samuel to find out. As for us, we must return to matters in
Israel and hope Samuel has a safe journey back to the afterlife when the rules
of illusion wear off.

Cut to:

Ext. Top of the Tower--Evening

The Queen of Babylon s heavenly realm, is wearing her head attached, however she
now has six eyes. She orders a hoard of dark angel companions to take flight
over Babylon. The dark angels are Nephilim and they flock in and out of the
tower s peak over the Queen. They stretch out in formations across the sky.

Cut to:

Ext. Waterfall--Evening

Serpent-like tentacles of an octopus creature frolic under the splashing of the
falls. A large land creature, a Behemoth, takes a drink from the waterfall, then
trudges off. The ground begins to dry up and crackle. In the expanse of the sky
a legion of flying demons glide along a parallel pattern. Comets approach the
earth and freeze in time before they hit the ground. A guard armed with a
crossbow, escorts Zerub and Samuel onto the dried up ground. The guard exits.
The two bewildered men stare at the floating comets when they realize the skies
above them are occupied by lurid apparitions. A few of the demons swoop in,
looking like a burlap bag with ash for a head and wings with bent claws, landing
on a patch of land near the dried up waterfall. Samuel produces two orbs that
create a thin shield layer of electrons between them. The demons shriek at the
sight of the magic and return to their flight pattern.

Samuel: If everything is in Nimrod s book, then we re in the book, as well.

Zerub: What if we found a way to alter history by changing the text?

The two men hear water bubbling up again from the waterfall and drink fervently
from its rushing font. The demons in the sky are terrified and squeal off into
the night sky. A large tentacled creature falls from the heavens, eyes all over
its body. It rides the Behemoth from earlier, and the animal wears spiked armor.
The tentacled monster spits a beam of electricity and knocks a comet out of its
frozen time. The monster unsheathes a sword and as it slowly lands, it stabs
Zerub through the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Samuel removes a
reflective piece of glass. The eyes and the tentacles fold up and form the shape
and image of the Queen of Babylon. She appears in beauty, only having two eyes
and long brown hair. She glances and her eyes turn bright yellow. They launch a
beam at Zerub and he turns to solid stone. She lashes out with an electric whip
and shatters the stone figure with her lashes. She turns her stone stare on
Samuel and he flashes the piece of mirrored glass which deflects the gaze,
turning the Behemoth into an immobile stone statue. The Queen chants and two
guards appear. The water spring is scorched up by billowing smoke. Blood bubbles
up and streams down the waterfall. Samuel chants over the glass and it turns the
glass into solid mirror. He reflects the Queen s image and she sees herself. She
screams and begins to cry as she sees her own face turn ugly and old in the
mirror. She flees the situation. Nimrod materializes out of the base of the
waterfall and walks forward in his royal robes as the blood dries from them.

Nimrod: You shall not harm me, Samuel. If you kill me, you shall awaken me from
dream. And if you stop the dream, all of this disappears. You are a ghost,
Samuel. You shall be gone when all this is over.

Samuel bum rushes Nimrod, tackling him. He tries to break Nimrod s neck. He
overhears the voice of his mother in his head.

Hannah VO: Samuel, you must get out.

Samuel: I hear you mother.

Samuel cuts off Nimrod s head with his sword and collects it into his gunny
sack. He removes a wineskin from the same bag and takes a long hard blast of
wine. He searches Nimrod s remains to find scrolls of sheepskin paper.

Hannah VO: Samuel, I want to communicate with you, yet all forms of
communication have broken down.

Samuel: These scrolls are only a portion of Nimrod s book. We must gather the
rest.

Samuel leans his sword over a basin and droplets of blood splash into it. He
wipes the sword with his hand and tastes the blood with his fingers. Samuel
reads a passage and a small metallic bird animated with life flutters down to
Samuel. Hannah s voice comes from the bird.

Samuel: Mother, was that your voice in the bird?

Hannah: Follow me Samuel. I will lead you to Hannah.

He follows the bird to the edge of a cliff, an ancient prophet heals the leprous
man from before. The prophet is Isaiah. Isaiah calls out to the Queen.

Isaiah: Come down, and sit in the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon, sit on the
ground: there is no throne, O daughter of the Chaldeans for thou shalt no more
be called tender and delicate. Sit thou silent, and get thee into darkness, O
daughter of the Chaldeans: for thou shalt no more be called, The lady of
kingdoms.

The Bird motions for Samuel to follow it into a mechanical apparatus that Isaiah
operates. The apparatus slides the journeyers down the side of the mountain into
the encampment of the previous night. They watch as the tower ascends into the
cloudy sky above it.

Isaiah: And he will bring down their pride together with the trickery of their
hands. The fortress of the high fort of your walls he will bring down, lay low,
and bring to the ground , down to the dust.

Samuel enters a cavern near the encampment to shield himself from the falling
rocks and debris from the tower s ascension. He sees a hall of mirrors in the
cavern. A hologram of his lost friend Zerub appears.

Zerub: They have brought me back to stop you. Nimrod has brought many of us back
with his magic. He wishes to enslave our minds in the afterlife, so that once
humanity has been destroyed, they will be his eternal servants. He s using the
magic of the Witch your king Saul used to bring you here.

Samuel: Come out Zerub, for I will only face you in the flesh.

Zerub: Very well.

The hologram, like before, changes to flesh and blood. Zerub swings a punch and
Samuel blocks, then connects a mid-punch to Samuel s leg.

Zerub: This is the final day of all ceremonies. Word is that even though you
defeated the Queen of the South, your only alliance remains with reluctant
prophets. Soon you will give in to the supernatural mind of our master and your
mind will become his. He will manipulate you to do his will if you remain in
this form of the afterlife.

Samuel: You no longer deserve to wear the robe of the Israelites.

The two walk past the mirrors into a back room. Zerub casts a lightning blast
onto Samuel. Samuel retaliates with his sword, rushing toward Zerub. Too quick
for him, Zerub stops the oncoming blade with his own blade.

Zerub: My sword is holy. They told me that if you wake up the sleepers this
dream world will end.

Samuel: How does Nimrod still control the ghosts of Hades if I have defeated
him?

Zerub: It s not him. It s his book.

Samuel swings his sword to the right and it is blocked again by Zerub s side
swing. Lights flash as the ground and walls vanish into a floating starry
expanse. Samuel hovers on a flying carpet he brought along in his bag, as Zerub
stands still, motionless, with the stars moving behind him. Samuel thrusts his
blade at Zerub and is easily blocked by his opponent s sword.

Samuel: Is this why you see beasts in the sky, because we re in a dream? If that
is true than the oncoming apocalypse of our people is only a dream as well.

Zerub: This is all of secondary importance.

The swords clash in the middle. Samuel does a turnaround spin attack and Zerub
merely steps out of the way. Zerub puts forward his shield as Samuel s sword
clashes against it. Zerub lets loose another bolt of thunder that knocks Samuel
out of his path in the sky.

Zerub: More frail than petals scattered in the wind. End quote. Book of Babel.

Samuel stands up and collects himself for the next round.

Samuel: I won t have my mind controlled in the afterlife. I refuse to take
orders from anyone.

Zerub: Anyone, except Saul? Is that why you have not submit your control to our
master? Are you under the will of Saul?

Samuel takes it personally and slashes a quick blow at Zerub s armor, knocking a
few plates off of his left shoulder. He moves in for another swift blow at Zerub
s chest and knocks him backward. Zerub launches an electronic shockwave that
barely misses Samuel.

Samuel: I think you know the rules of the illusion well enough.

Zerub: I was never a thief, like you.

Their swords clash again.

Zerub: Resign to your fate.

Zerub does a quick turn and smacks the tip of Samuel s sword, flinging it out of
Samuel s grasp. Next, Zerub s sword explodes into Samuel s shield , knocking it
out of his arms. Samuel removes a vial from his cloak, and the script for the
use of it blows away in the wind. He throws the liquid contained within at Zerub
and a veil of fire separates the two of them. Samuel laughs and drinks his last
few drops of water from a flask. He tosses the flask in the fire and the flames
draw higher. Samuel equips a bow and silver arrows from his cloak and shoots
them through the fire. They collide with smoldering ash and take down Zerub
shouting from the flame burning his eyes.

Zerub: (choking) My eyes are on fire!

Zerub s shape hardens, crackles, and falls apart as it did when the queen turned
him to stone and destroyed him. The ground reappears with a river and
mountainside, flourishing with vegetation. Samuel lands his carpet and picks up
his sword. A large metal statue of the six armed Hindu god Kali bubbles up from
an appearing creek. Out of the water, riding the statue, comes again the ancient
Goddess Persephone.

Persephone: Arise and be restored.

Samuel: Persephone. How timely you have come, my goddess.

Persephone: Look. I bring you what you have searched for.

She produces a book with a leather cover. It s pages are dense and tattered. The
pages are bound up in a scroll. Samuel bows before the goddess, then stands
before her.

Samuel: You are not like other masters.

Persephone: We had to make a commotion in Hades to get this book for you.

Samuel: Why do I deserve the anxieties of the knowledge of the book. Is this not
what twisted Zerub s mind?

Persephone: By avenging your kingdom, you have encouraged your people. And you
never went to sleep.

Samuel: Ill famed houses are all that s left of my people.

Samuel opens the scroll and thumbs through the text.

Persephone: The puzzle to this book is that the more you go around it, the more
all the words you ve read begin to make sense.

A dark fire burns from the book cindering Samuel s eyes. He drops the book and
feels his chest as his heart pounds. He dips and sways consciously recognizing
the power that is entering him.

Persephone: It takes awhile to take effect.

Persephone takes Samuel s sword from him, cuts a vine from a tree and scales
down the mountainside. Samuel takes a seat on the ground and fumbles the book
shut. He shakes his head in confusion. He stirs the water from the creek with a
stick. He stares at a blade of grass and with a surreal edge the background
fades to thick forestry. Samuel is transported. A large golden chariot with
horses awaits him, shrouded in flames. Samuel squints at the brightness of the
fire. He gets it and, the fire does not harm him or his lute which he strums as
he rides the chariot into the sky. As he travels upward, he pauses from his
guitar and examines a piece of the idol he was carrying from Micah.

Samuel: I wonder what this would be worth on the black market?

Hannah materializes next to him in the couch. She sees that he looks troubled
and she extends her hand to comfort him.

Hannah: Forget about the book of Babylon, my son. The prisoners will always be
under its power. Oh yes, someone in strange garments threw in this thing without
telling who it was.

She hands him an envelope and he opens it, revealing a map to a tavern.

Hannah: You must be in the mood for a glass of wine before the fall of Babylon
and the return to the afterlife.

Cut to

Ext. Hanging Gardens of Babylon--Evening

All kinds of rare and exotic flowers and plant-life cover a cliff wall, hanging
down in vines. In the distance the tower slowly moves in the direction of the
sky, like a rocket blasting off. A gust of wind and rain knock the tower to one
side. As it collapses to the ground, the inhabitants topple from the windows.

Cut to:

Ext. Wreckage of the Tower of Babel--Evening

Men form in small clusters around the tower that lies in pieces along the coast
of the Dead Sea. Voices and mumbling begin in a low wave as everyone wanders
confused and angry that no one understands a word of language that anyone else
is speaking. Patterns of language seek out systematized patterns of equivalent
linguistic codes i.e. groups of similar language speakers’ form by language in
the small band of tower survivors. Spanish speakers speak their language to each
other, group together and walk away. Elder men speak in Latin shrug and leave.

Cut to:

Int. Tavern--Evening

Inside the tavern is a view of the hanging gardens. Samuel bursts through the
door to overhear the bartender in conversation with a patron. The bartender
recognizes Samuel.

Bartender: And some say the dead don t return to the world of the living. Hallow
traveler, do you hear from King David anymore?

Samuel: Must have wine Lustful urge The book, I tell you, I read it and it was
like I never actually had to read words.

Patron: Get this man a glass of the finest of the hanging gardens vineyard
press.

The bartender slides Samuel a full decanter of wine. Samuel takes a long hearty
drink and posts himself at the bar.

Samuel: (stutters) Th this book I read. With its power, you can walk through
walls like they aren t even there.

Bartender: Hem. That does sound like a pretty good story. I do believe another
round of drinks is in order. Now what were you saying?

Samuel takes a large blast of wine, breathes out and wipes his mouth with his
hand.

Samuel: Now that s paradise.

Fade To:

Credits
(This script has been brought to you by the private comforts of your own home.)


FILM REVIEW
TIME CAPSULE (Genre: Gangster/Musical Hybrid)

SHOOT THE PIANO PLAYER
In Truffaut’s gangster pastiche he toys with the genre nonstop creating a
magnificent New Wave second feature that captivates, as well as mesmerizes. The
brothers that the plot hangs around here have shades of Dostoyevsky finding
themselves in a scrape alongside the protagonist brother, a once famous piano
player played by Charles Aznavour who now plays for the bar scene in Paris. He
falls for a waitress at his nightclub and all hell breaks loose around them,
mainly due to shady underworld connections. Children are kidnapped, women are
sacrificed and yet the postmodern work is highly comical at times, schizophrenic
in mood. Truffaut uses split screens, elliptical jump cuts and an amalgam of “b”
movie references to noir classics. Aznavour’s thoughts are heard and are
counterpoint to his actions. He, like Truffaut utilizes the height of irony to
send over this New Wave mastery.

LXXXV. (Roman Numeral for 85).
Textual Strategies
(sample)
Hayden White
The Politics of Historical Interpretation:
Discipline and De-sublimation
Training to be a steady reader implies a certain finesse of historical
devaluation on the explosive elements of natural-historical disasters—However,
the ultimate “denial” of past debacles is, too, pointless because just because
the word “Holocaust” exists or not—millions of Jews were tortured and slain in
cruel and unusual ways by Hitler’s regime and that’s a fact.
Perhaps placing money’s power in a lesser category de-emphasizing a “Hero’s
Journey” mythos for a time is the anti-mystification aficionado cause for
historical accuracy. Whether or not, “spiritual” matter’s never resolve man’s
inhumanity to man is a predestined load of overdetermination that, too, leads to
frequent impulsive delusions—the problem with history is that it contains so
many blots and stains that the existence of a “Higher Source” is all but
vanquished but actual materialization, commodification and the lack of freedom
equal to individual experiences in a world that may never be able to expediate
the debtfulness or debtor’s blockade.



LXXXVI.
Textual Strategies
(sample)
Nancy Armstrong
Some Call It Fiction: On the Politics of Domesticity—
Essay response:
In response to the feminization of literature there is an engenderment of
awareness all throughout the pages of Austen’s emotive worth, however sometimes
the cycles of life cannot be broken until spun out of cycle. Then again, madness
awaits the woman that feels it necessary to bleed for the entire human race by
giving up materials that are still a necessity to live with for a season.
Or are they, because even if the nuclear family and the latest fashion fad are
too extreme to adjust to, then a true feminist would avoid that calamity
altogether—unless prepared to fit into an old fashioned custom of torturous
mind-games and earth-shattering dilemmas that deserve no angle of approach to be
boxed indie of mind-numbing philosophies that tend to over-masculinize and hurt
the body of the freedom of choicers among the liberals that choose to leave the
façade of equipment behind.


LXXXVIII. (88) HOMI K. BHABHA (between the author and the readers, there is no
87th Chapter!)
Locations of Culture
Essay response:
Intransigence is all around. However, there is a narrow margin that inherits
wisdom by paving brighter horizons for a consciously aware meta-conscience,
which dissolves into a non-existent conscience before all old relics go extinct
there may be a slightly easier mainstream slip-stream engagement with disaster.
Racial slurs are containments of corporate greed, slanders to keep money pumping
into some over-driven machine.
Yet, interesting old taboos are being broken all around—from Salman Rushdie,
Toni Morrison and Levinas all three have worked to preserve old myths altogether
now. Of course, the problems they have invented and are not afraid to share
often create other kinds of disturbances, yet by preserving in an article they
have infected my mind with a whole new idea of racially indiscriminate, class
conscious and social feminist strands that will clear the air of many gaps that
still exist between the moral majority and the oldest trick in the book is to
cease for peace.



UNIT SIX FEMINISM
(A work in progress)

LXXXVIII ½ (88 part two or 88 and a half--there is no 89:post section skip to
90)
Textual Strategies
(sample)
Sandra M. Gilbert and
Susan Gubar
Infection in the Sentence
ESSAY RESPONSE
The battle for feminine-female authorship is all around. From Dickinson to a
Byronic uber-female of Gothic’s advent is a long reaching wave of mind-games
that reprogram people to think and act a certain way. Or do females actually
want to break the chains of men’s sexual perversions, twisted fantasies of
Goddess or “fetish” dementia. How do we stop the misogynistic lie before it
starts?
Power in the truth will break men from bondage, but then it feels like men will
patriarchalize everything in their wake, which does in fact, create a
disturbance in a non-hierarchical feminist enthusiasms with no isolation into a
singular vision—lest the one at a time examination evaluation encroaches.


XC (90)---Textual Strategies
(sample)
Elaine Showalter—
How do you reveal the ways of mankind’s own defiler, man himself—how your
philosophy has unbound the inner woman in us all by way of ‘animae’ environment,
or feminist jouissance—However, is it possible that certain trials are far too
difficult for women to withstand?
Tell us how to approach a matriarchy without wars, rumors of wars, or prisoners
of sexual lust—How far will you go to turn the tides on a ‘Forbidden Planet’
generation of peace-keepers—What demons of yours must we eliminate to eliminate
our own. Why must men be emasculated in order to convince women of their
sovereignty—How does anyone survive royalty in war-time? How long will this
queen keep her crown?

TIME CAPSULE (film review…genre: modern gangster)
GODFATHER—Part II
In Coppola’s second installment he almost tops the first, revealing the
transformation of Italian-American culture as it is subdued and absorbed into a
harsh reality of the dark side of America. The film is witness to the young Don
Corleone played by Robert De Niro in his star turn role. He builds as a young
hopeful orphan immigrant. As he becomes a local underground Mafioso, in a career
solidifying move, he takes down a local mob boss and his cronies by sniping them
out during the famous, ‘Roof-Top’ sequence to prove his power is greater than
any previous muscle on the streets of New York.
Meanwhile intercut between the preamble and the breakup of the familial
structure, is the present day Corleone’s that continue the empire of their
father’s ‘business.’ Though betrayal the empire is nearly lost, yet Al Pacino’s
character knows how to handle adversity having taken over the family business.
It is hard to watch the near collapse of the Corleone’s with outside influences
from the American capitalist agenda of business ventures with the mob. Still a
sequel near the original is a film worth repeated viewing.



XCI—Annette Kolodny---
(sample)
Textual Strategies
(sample)
“Dancing Through the Minefield”
Essay response:
The basic concept of over-exposure to certain ideals will only expose our women
to harm’s way, which is a naughty concept that will come to an end when we
magnify them as more than equals at maternal figures over contracts that will
bind them in ‘guilt’ and ‘anguish’ over spans of history that will prove that
feminists from the future are protecting us to preserve present day feminists,
like Kolodny to unwind the chains that have been bound by antifeminists of the
past—
Maybe it’s high time the ‘minefields’ were deactivated by men that are willing
to put themselves through any process of torture to take the heat off the
ladies—Simple tasks for men help—cleaning cooking, sewing—domesticity for men,
ineffective behavior and disinfected literature for men.

Film Review Time Capsule (style: documentary)

NIGHT AND FOG
Quite simply put, among the best documentary films ever made. Alain Resnais
masters footage of tracking shots through abandoned concentration camps spliced
with actual footage from the actual holocaust. The narration is ambiguous toward
the whole evil force of the Nazis, questioning that if they aren’t taking
responsibility, the films asks, “Then who is responsible?” The film is dark and
sad illustrating without sentiment or manipulation a document of man’s greatest
crime against mankind. Resnais does no grand-standing, but is selfless in his
representation of the genocide. Pictures of a young Jewish boy shot in the back
of the head; Soap made from Jewish corpse. All is a fatal loss commemorated here
with a resounding complexity. The film begs the question: “Who is responsible?”
Perhaps the answer is: Everyone. Don’t miss this film.

XCII—
Lillian S. Robinson
(sample)
Treason Our Text—poetry time
On a lattice window
Under the guise of the moon
How a writer’s glance
Gives back more time than he owes…

To Repudiate historical atrocities
Inflicted on our nation’s women
By never allowing them to recur

Although in man’s death
We have given a women an easier

Path to travel, what if we
Hung St. Mary on a cross
Burned it and thrust it in your face
Would you then be condemned?

(Philosophy at the C+ Pass stage of the pass/no pass game: the questioning of
science, logic, reason, and interpretation with a ‘hard won’ course of practical
insights—always bound by physics, such as time and money…)

Film time\ Camera Works
f-stop low=more light
f-stop high=less light
Grammataciae Complicaneae syntactuicae complicarae
(complications of syntax in a compliant grammatical order---feminized)

Perfect
Ext/Int
Balance: f-stop—3.14

My failure to be a feminist
Whether I distance or localize the problem—the problem still exists!

Oh how Hollywood tempts me with riches---savage beauty and an incessant amount
of skillful value!

Teach us all to live in a natural world!


XCIII Toward a Black Feminist Criticism
(sample)
Barbara Smith—
In case of lack of material ammunition to eschew away past crimes imposed on the
African-American literature and theory, look into your hearts and find
acceptance for black lesbians, by any means necessary—time is running out for
African-females everywhere that are trying to get ahead in a world loaded with
drug violence, sexual slanders and the gigantic egos of white-people. Perhaps we
must fully submit our powers unto them until we become strong enough to
collaborate with them.
White people’s approach to this kind of literature (as is this duly noted author
‘Smith’) is to enjoy the world of meaningless without disrupting the
African-American canon that may only be selected by them and for them—meanwhile,
as a culture we must now only turn away from that which obsesses us to grant
freedom to an enslaved culture.

XCIV. Deborah E. McDowell
(sample)
New Directions for Black Feminist Criticism

“I am tired of the African-American media pandering to the white—“A. Sheley
Essay Response:
Bumbling under an exhibit I saw in Nice, France at an art gallery of
contemporary aesthetics with double-upside down rainbows, next to an Andy Warhol
$ sign and (meanwhile) in an underground bus-ride to Luxembourg, I exhibited a
sarcophagus and what-looked like a missing-link to evolution—Later in the
Vatican, I went to oracle land—Meanwhile, back in Nice, I saw what looked like a
Witch’s face that looked like a piece of film I lost in the USC cine-lab. The
problem with these intensely combustible elements—That’s the problem with
‘white-guy’s’ art-tour—there’s no ‘Basquiat’ in it.

XCV.
LAURA MULVEY
I. Introduction
a) Political Use of Psychoanalysis
For example, as long as we gaze into one type of text too long, we never forget
what happened by means of logic, order, standards and structures—but then how do
we pull ourselves together post-political nightmare—for instance, if ‘Camp
David’ (hypothesis) were to pull out of the war zone and return to an uninvited
‘music-land’ then maybe the psychoanalyst nightmare inflicted unto them would go
away.

b)Destruction of Pleasure
Then again, some rules were meant to be broken in order to regain sanity after
the whole world goes ‘up-in-smoke’ over a couple of lousy coin-tosses.

II. Pleasure in Looking/Fascination
Here we reconstruct our ‘gaze,’ ‘Men are the privileged in classic texts’ ‘Women
are the objectified slave here’
To subvert this formula in a classical context is impossible
Women are practically sequestered into lesbianism at this phase, while men just
don’t fuckin’ give a shit---
III. Woman as Image
a. Man as Bearer of the Look—
Modernity brought us to the ‘ideal’ space of femininity, but somehow ‘Mulvey’
gives me the feeling that this too has been overmasculinized, save in ‘Godard’
or ‘Rivette’ or ‘Resnais’ or better yet, ‘Varda’ (Cleo From 5 to 7)—even Poetic
Realism of ‘Renoir’ and ‘Carne’ (all filmmakers) has a space of loosened
bondages against misogyny.

IV. ‘Mulvey’ as an American, defends a certain space for Sternberg’s ‘Dietrich’
or as I lay claim to any man’s ‘Garbo,’ yet even then I fear that the egotism of
contemporary American Males is leading us into postmodern ‘harm’—unless it is
oft-quoted ‘irony.’ What will the new space of the natural—un-goddess Earth
woman be like?


XCVI. (96)
‘Helene Cixous’ TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample)
LAUGH AT THE MEDUSA
Only the beguiler—threshold guardian—can out beguile the beguiler—In the words
of ‘Thomas More’ in utopia—they who laugh away the blues in an atmosphere laugh
away the blues in an atmosphere of dissension proves that even the Medusa’s
issue can be resolved. The Freudian way out would be to adjust the mirror until
she’s no longer ugly.
To tame the Medusa, we must quit equating our women to the biggest ‘bitch’ word
and allow her to devaluate our ego to the max—If Medusa turns to stone, we all
lose—This too, in Biblical terms, happened to Lot’s wife when she turned to see
her hometown roasted due to angel-rapists. Can Medusa save Lot’s Wife—the Bob
Dylan approach to this ‘Don’t Look Back’ theory is inevitable—If you don’t like
what you see in the mirror then claim responsibility for one set of guilt at a
time—unless the ‘kinesis’ passes away.

__NEXT CHAPTER dedicated to Lee Thompson and Luis Villanueva

XCVII
TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
*sample
Luce Irigaray—
This Sex Which Is Not One
‘As women are being drawn and quartered throughout the Globe, feminists have to
punish us with challenging word-games to end the anti-feminist—However, there’s
always room for inertia, because only an antifeminist can become a profeminist
in Nietzschean linguistics.
What would a woman be free to do as she lives without being under a man’s
guise—for instance, in Abbas Kiarostami’s (sic) Iranian ritual movies there are
women who are in a tight spot ‘see also ‘The Wind Will Carry Us,’ and how there
is a time for ritual and a place for everything. Do you understand?
Irigaray—is not for one willing to follow some bullshit masculine God theory
just to save face in front of some non-existent Christian crowd—because all
Saints dies for a cause—I claim philosopher saint on this page for avoiding the
confines of men…
If incest occurs (like it has in many families) how far would you be willing to
go to save your brothers from this pit of hellish distractions without becoming
a fiend of the apocalypse?
And in Foucaultian terms, you have warring words for the block, like my ex-wife
gave me the sexual thrills of three lifetimes, which in and of itself is a
tactical component of an alliance without the availability of being deployed for
any mission but his own manifestation of building dream-lands and nightmarish
beguilement for future generations to carry on myths.



(GO ON)
TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (genre: comedy style: farce)
M. HULOT’S HOLIDAY

The strange vehicle driven by M Hulot pops and shakes down the road, determined
to find a place to spend the holiday. Tati is meticulous to the detail of
comedy, fixing every element in his universe as a gag or pun. It is strange how
he gets lost waiting for the train, moseying up and down stairwells, repeatedly.
When he opens the door to a restaurant, wind blows away the other patrons. And
his car, who can forget the quaking heap of scrap metal. Monty Python is known
for saying, “this is the best comedy ever.” It is certainly among the best, as
no other auteur expresses comedy quite the way Tati generates laughs with his
perfect timing. He uses every element in the frame to attack the audience funny
bone. This reviewer has had many in ah holiday in which something has had many a
holiday in which, something has had many a ‘Holiday’ in which, something would
go awry and instantly it is a reminder of Monsieur Hulot. He stumbles and
bumbles his way around a preconceived staging and prefabricated pitfalls. The
engineering of laughter by Jacques Tati must have been a laborious account as he
always oversees the film down to the tiniest detail. Always a perfectionist,
Tati reveals his humorous characteristics that allow for a range from the absurd
to the hysterical.


XCVIII (98)—Textual Strategies (sample) Michel Foucault—egotisicae—feminine
humbling
“You are building a roadmap into philosopher’s development hell, do you
understand? That is all this amounts to—so let us run the gauntlet of critical
differences, before we sort out our differences.”
Here is how to explain the magic of the ‘phoenix-down’:
It is a phantom ghost gate trick that sends the undead into dust particles,
breathed through the life of an Indian schema with knowledge of the peyote-ian
Kiva.

Here is the value of water-power
1-series of aims and objectives
2-presides over rationality
3-headquarters where water is deterministically made soluble for all purposes—

Cinematic power
Strangers on a Train teaches you there’s no one you can trust, including your
own alterego—save for those willing to remain a prisoner to this rigid prototype
of textual implications—for instance, there is a queer reading of the film that
has been stalled for further notice.

FORCE of LAW—Sovereign
1. In a Greek world, justice is blind
2. She sits on a throne clutching a sword in her left hand and scales are
weighted slightly to the right…
3. Methodological imperatives, at most they are cautionary prescriptions.

Nineteenth-century takes domain here; a conscious eraser that cleans the machine
so the brain becomes a strategic function to disentangle war…

3—Domain
1. men and women must always remain in matrimonial legitimacy and all secrets
must be kept between latent friends
2. A pedagogization of children’s sex—here is a dangerous dividing line—
3. socialization of procreative behavior, ‘in other words, should there not be a
male birth control pill, instead of only a woman’s?”
4. psychiatry
Prevents sexual anomalies, or at least allows them to occur in the presence of
the Grand Narrative—

Foucault (cont)
--This book seems as though James Joyce was writing it while holding his breath
underwater—Matthew Crowe--
1. Immanence is a reset button when dealing with a local center
\control/

2. Variations
‘distributions of power’ and ‘appropriations of knowledge’ should be an equally
sharable venue for |alt|ernavtives

3. Double Conditioning
Hit the metaphysical |delete| button, or, "everybody needs forgiveness for
something” acting effect…to shut down the strategies envelope that projects a
scale of past debts.

4. Polyvalence
Eliminate racial slurs by checking into Bunuel’s LOS OLVIDADS and try this for
practice—demarcate the point of resistance (intersexual relations) and start up
an opposing strategy (magical realism)


XCIX. (99) Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick—
From Epistemology of the Closet

A rehearsal in time and places—
Either category
Queer
Or imperative studies
Tati—Sometimes gay men are good leaders out of childish ways—but only those gay
people willing to splice intersects—as does the Romantic suicidal erotic
meltdown of the Mary Shelley waves of multiple readings—a satanic version takes
credit for a side of the story, but man creating man is kind of a queered up God
creating man—what kind of ‘master-canon’ would not accept Romantic Poetry—set up
a roadblock that is too expensive to pay for, find a way to deliver homophobia
into a different dimension far out of range contact in a left-wing anonymous
rebellion..Focus for a minute on Asian politics do you not think that in a
well-balanced policy would be to allow films like KUNDUN to play in Red China
and films like FAREWELL TO OLD WAYS in Tibet in order to reestablishment a
systemic trusting first world power like Japan (leading in film for RASHOMON
alone)—oh erotic love how you have gone out in crayons and colorful train rides
where nothing happened until you reach a plateau to be watchful over specific
Golden Kingdom. If we could only keep our ZERO FOR CONDUCT list against our
consciousness would then school sin go away—
By Freud’s theory all humans are bisexual at birth and then choose an
orientation. However, these days with rapidly splicing genetics it is known that
certain people are born gay.

Passionate language encourage the
Queer agenda to come out of their shells and stand up for their rights—by
dismissing the know-nothingness of the pseudo urbane’)
‘Euro-American traditionals’ are beginning to accept and adapt to homosexual
males, particularly among a religious group of supporters of different medias
like a teacher, whereas as a human we have no other right but to treat all
people equally.

C. (100) MICHAEL WARNER---a fly by night operation on the quicksand of the
feelings HOMO-NARCISSISM or HETEROSUALITY, and when they should or should not
collies—highly recommendable…
CI. (101)—TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample) Lee Edelman
Homographesis—TO explain the way I feel about cultural differences when I
stashed away memories of a sexual relationship on the brink of doom. At any
rate, too many films at once, including an all Summer Bender spent me several
trips to the hospital.
Can a man with sensitive defense mechanism be sent to a hospital amidst an orgy
of fine looking nymph nurses in the land that is bedlam? The worst crime to deal
within Queer studies is a harsh case, which is rare except in prison. Then
again, if religious oppression coming from a Church seals up your sins, this too
is that in the future there will be a coming out of the closet where all people
will choose the path of there will be a chosen standard or structure of
heterosexuals, homosexuals and/or bisexualists
Impeccable travels horribly, through Christian without nomination, in other
words hospitals hooked me to hard anti-psychotics, which do put me to sleep to
arouse devilish hallucinations, which so far have led to broken bones and other
ethical disasters the visions of a dangerous demon was coming at me only to
return as though upon random command—much as in the way the Johnny Carson show
used to be ran for example—I could always sense the hostility in my heart toward
the queer community which has defiled me from within, let the article now loosen
the shackle—or ex-homophobic confessions.
1. Only a sexual deviant is anti-queer
2. Lusts written on his face
Mean it is okay to straight men to attract queer men their flame, “straight eye
for the queer guy-style”
3. Hospitals typically do not cater to the psychotic imbalanced thought-criminal
that defiles his neighbor through brain insults…

MEAN STREETS (Time Capsule Movie Review Genre: MODERNIST GANGSTER)
In reference of the slight pressure the old friends Cassavetes and Scorsese put
upon each other in a test of independence, Scorsese’s career high point is a
work of poetry (as his long-time collaborators who are not evil people, but have
a delicate touch, as in his producers and writers, as scary as that may seem)
meditations on life in the inner city of New York. Harvey Keitel wants to help
him pay it to the underworld to gangsters the money owed becomes too much of a
burden to bear. In a surprise ending, one of the leads is shot to Death by his
debtors and his director (Scorsese in a Polanski-esque cameo) The film has many
great duration of common lovemaking. The streets of New York spell death for the
reckless and rare spectacle that no one will ever forget. (Also, highlight the
fact that the characters are announced in name in subtitle’s upon each
introduction…)



CII—Textual Strategies
(sample)
Judith Butler—
I-Scorsese and Cassavetes—Life as a House
Oh how I have beguiled the ways of the last schism of the cineastes by accusing
people without empirical datum—therefore this crime must be decompressed into
water under the bridge. No longer condemned…

II-Vanilla Sky—Shrek—I have problems with rigid critics (as I also used to be)
that think there are ‘catachrestic) regulations that cannot be
out—metaphoricalized then manage critical camps to write reviews on chosen gazes
or you will be distracted forever.

III—Cannibal Campout, Beasties and Blair Witch Project—
Lesbians and gay men often feel that there is an avowal of witch-hunts upon
ethical declensions outside gayness to longer be compared to only evil magic—

NANCY MEYERS—
I am sincerely regressed for the character assassinations unless they are public
relation stunts, which may bite back at the box office-styling with many critics
in the industry, will punish you for misunderstanding men—

GODZILLA—
Roland Emmerich, how you hate war, that is why you thwart it in a BRUCKHEIMER
extension, by decolorfulizing bombastic shows by overemphasizing the warzone
within us all.

RETURN OF THE JEDI—
This is the end of innocence for the wave of JEDI REBELLION cultural delusions
that distract through invention, ways in which to slow down culture For Another
Epic Entertainment.

Fahrenheit 9-11
Oh Michael Moore, you have out defiled me on every level—Wish I could have met
you in person—this too must be forgotten to be forgiven…

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Only a lampooning avid follower of the ways of acid did I get
the urge to get all my Telluride homies in a fun-land of concertos for my saving
grace to the church of cinema, come out of the closet and the King of Kings
(Whoever you dub philosopher king or queen of this realm—do not give up your
crown in times of sorrow--) It’s like Plato’s Academy meets Barbara Stanwyck in
Custer’s final surrender from beyond the grave. What does happen to a community
when people get hurt by everyone around them and why does the gay community that
the heat for sex-crimes when even these bondages come undone—Derive this, why
would the demons of the defiler be unrelinquished the heat of a
culture-of-half-dropouts—represent somehow an over-qualified dropped all these
note-cards ‘straight up the pike’ on preservational complicities alliances—take
for instance people get killed over ‘idols’ in the business wouldn’t you want
your film of the day to be ANDREI RUBLEC, which means cinematic ‘icons’ never
fade—end the sign of homophobic despair for the sake of the greats like “Rock
Hudson,”—or any other Stanislavsky—Boleshavky systemic method of-actors with ‘a
lot on their mind’—question the consolidation of the identity—sign, which are
not to be abused—beware of inner and outer abuse—What would a muse of artistry
do to go out of his way to invite everyone in but in an act of selflessness
signifies haunting realms of oracular lesbians—perhaps is heterosexuals invited
gay men to parties, performances are subjective and exist in the domain of
conscious subject—What is deinstituting a career plan tamer than
expressing—femme fatales may also come in virgin lesbian form even then
switching genres is nearly impossible in a ‘Porky goes to Wackyland, Warner
Brother style’ for the auteur's grid—only the harmless psychoanalytics from
William James through Freud into Carl Jung and into expert mode—which reminds me
to thank my own team of psychoanalysts—which proves that those that are loved
are never lost—except mimesis creates Forbidden territories among a nation of
non-conformists—love to typologize the simplicity of psychic evaluation and
identification—metaphorical sublimination of drag queen culture fits nicely into
a generation-x equation: “Of, Like I give a fuck,”—this too is egotistical. The
problem I have with camps and cults is that there is always some damn
hierarchical democracy and out of respect for old ways maybe there is a reason
to maintain a reserved space for ‘suicide kings’ of professors like certain
leaders who can retrospectively a disruptive promise that post-modernism is a
never-ending critique upon itself for no apparent reason.

Xes-above the shadows
-consensual love-making at a local age—

The final threshold Guardian
The Corruptor

Thieves’ Guild Video Game Notes:
Reparata la denata en regalata para infortimava creativa es creativa para mundo
exploitative.

Or use the reparations without a world for dressing in care-giving creativity
through information—as roughly translated.

POINT FOUR—Sodomy is no longer a sin in an earthly domain.
4. When you try to escape from a hospital once you’ve placed there, they will
find means to strap you into a bed and inject you with a serum—maybe certain
poets have been killed by thought-crimes of their rigid consortium of
gathering—Only the hospital can outrun the inherent Ed Woodian ‘rat race’
against media’s dependency of things cross-genre'd and privately revealed unto
vast isolated sources.
a. Why are gay men always ramshackled with stereotypes of sorcerers and
heretics, werewolves and basilisk’ Why do ‘demonic warfarers’ believe that they
should keep a fight going until the day of the ‘coming out’?
Final essay response:
Neologism—graphesis
Locus of the nexus—“I went on a stealing spree—“
Graphesis—how one crime leads to much deserved punishment, like preferring some
talents over others, until they are all equated to satisfactory powers—
Here’s a tip for street smarts:
Over-masculinity in an isolated shell leads to trouble in the game of
deactivating the mirror of reproduction, which is only obtained by men in a
dragged out situation—which retractions for articles I have printed in vain for
the sake of the masculine side of feminism like the peculiar sequence of
drag-queen humor in GRAND ILLUSION. From tempter, to reviler, to the straights
into the healing of the hearts of delusion.
There’s no better way to out your shattered bones then to exercise a castration
of sorts of yourself among feminist outcasts (of a queer breed)
The Latin vulgate (paraphrased):
Cacaratae Nodulotum—Necronomicae—
This will turn off the ‘cacti’ in the male dimension although why turn into a
eunuch corpse when a family structure breaks down in order to respond to a
community of friends—who all deserve the right to ‘carte-blanche’ in a free/fair
trade market economy. Yet does the anti-gay and pro-gay need to call an all
around cease-fire—some queer burdens are too hard to bear except those who don’t
mind bearing this guilt in critic prison-land. Unburden your guilt upon the
granting spirits of forgiveness for those who cease without praying by praying
without ceasing—
Note to reader—the road to the hospital was always paved by people that could
not but help me through my drug-binging adulterous nature, all in the mix of an
‘insomniac theater’ which lead to my visionary experience. But this too has not
rooted out my displeasing attitude toward haters, yet, hopefully the critical
gauntlets we run will divert into bio-chemistry road block by block—

TIME CAPSULE (movie review)--(style: postmodern)
WINGS OF DESIRE
WIM WENDER’S poetry of images, racks and dances along, following angels in
flight over the city of Berlin. The lead angel DAMIEL decides it is time to
transform from his supernatural state into a human. This way he can know what it
is like to be mortal. His main reason for giving up his flying powers is a woman
he longs to be within the flesh. The movie twists, turns and spine through the
angels’ paths, guiding the viewer through their flight gracefully. Peter Falk
appears as an ex-angel, able to feel the presence of Daniel before his
transformation. Angel vision is shot in black and white, human vision in color.
The film captures Berlin in exacting details revealing its love and loss, tears
and anxieties. The angels can hear thoughts and travel around invisible (though
spotted sometimes by children) laying a hand of care on the suffering human
race. The theme of an angel’s desire to be human and to love is photographed
here for all the dreamers who ever wished to fly above the nonsense.

(TO BE CONTINUED…) (END OF UNIT SIX)


UNIT SEVEN: Truth—equation—formula—
No trespassing
In fact checking land
Without kinging Husserl as a fact checker

CIII-(103)
Nina Baym—
Melodramas of Beset Manhood—In the name of a film project I’ve had in mind
titled ‘King of the Jews’ I will account for my sins of long time loyalties that
will never pass unless they find ways to work independently in the discovery of
Nathaniel Hawthorne to divert the public’s attention through his career, which
ended in 1799, twenty-nine admonishes toward women like Susannah Rowson book and
title (Charlotte Temple) why women authors like to remain invisible, because
certain ways of today’s culture defiles their time and payback are innervated by
a whole new world of classical allusions—I think what leads us into the
‘Harlequin Romances’ is truly ALL THAT HEAVEN ALLOWS (SIRK) or a national
institution of genre studies Thomas Schatz style, which approaches different
genres so that we could learn to transition from a singularly American culture
to globalizing institutions without maintaining anything but democracy. In F.O.
Matthiessen’s American Renaissance aim sense a denominator of democratic
mainstream fiction (add emphasis here)—here is the forbidden fortress of
cinema’s shelter.

BAYM (continues)
Marius Bewley’s Eccentric Design
Social and crude
The traditions
Of realism and naturalism
Enshrine author
1. Hawthorne (bounds of freedom)
2. Whitman (possibilities of democracy)
3. Joe Porte (student of American literature on an equal basis)
4. Savan Berovitch
(Puritan Origins of the American Self)
5. Jay B. Hubbell (reflection of America life)
Trilling influences his text “Love and Death in the American Novel” to explore
“Reality in America” or the newer slogan of many campaign trails, “Only In
America…” like the Medea’s last thoughts, Oh how I do sacrifice my children upon
altars of fire to leave behind the wars of lustful and vengeance-ful Jason and
the Argonauts without any reason except to tame the winds, recenter the Earth,
calm the waters and peaceful oblivion unto my own Demeter-ian self-serving
heresy.

MAGI LESSON—
Balthazar—A Speaking Animal (as in codified Bressonian linguistics…) GOLD
Ahab—The Sheik of Arabs FRANKINSCENSE
‘Rudolf Valentino’ MYRRH

Texas—Lone-Star
‘Matthew McCounaghey (sic)’

For the shepherd
of Lynch mob’s
ilk
will outlast the shit-storm
of
confusing beguilers
in the name of the corruptor
Now you see him “or” now you don’t…CHOOSE OR

Edith Warton (sic)—congenial, incomprehensible, schematics of self-preservation

For Whom the Bell Tolls
Directed by Sam Wood
A Hemingway experience

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s
‘The Beautiful and the Damned’
Vincente Minneola’s
Bad and the Beautiful
For the block
‘sentiment protests early confessions’

Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter—
Where an adulterous woman is treated with corruption, shame and insensibility
(alluding to the essence of culture)

Compliant and supportive
Are the virginal brides
And non-threatening mother
Question Answer
Freud arguments
In the occultic
psychology

For nature of
Psychoanayltics
Psychotherapy
(Like watching Hitchcock and Selznick collide in SPELLBOUND, in which Cary
Grants’ final defense mechanism was diffusal…

TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (ALUCARDA)—horror film
Among the finest of vampire flicks, this movie is an art film in the guise of
action-horror. Alucarda is the legend of two girls that try to serve God and end
up fornicating with the devil. The lead Alucarda wraps her friend into the world
of evil. Iconographical enough, one of the girls stands up naked in a bathtub
full of blood. Alucarda is this reviewer's pick for films about the occult and
supernatural horror. The girls have a sexual passion toward each other that
brings them to devotion even in evil acts. When the vampire killers hunt down
Alucarda the battle is an all out bloody ballet.
The allegory of female’s growing older and passing into maturation us at hand in
Alucarda. She would do anything to keep her status as the grand vampire. The
film utilizes color as a formal element to reveal his passionate nature of the
characters without the fail of the tension of emotions that is played out in
lavishment. Following the romance of two iconographer iconoclastic females as
they terrorize the religious nuts in their path is never too much fun, which is
expediates the picture. Whether it is a blood filled bath or an orgy in the
graveyard, Alucarda delivers the vampire genre a new entry to the myth,
deserving of observation as any cult film.

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (continued)
The Great Gatsby
By George Bernard Shaw
Metaphoric burdens of unusual surrogates implicit of Adamic heroes that enshrine
ladies in roles of key interpretive open-ended allotments that never end.
I suppose the biggest problem with the weakest link of canon is that from
bad-words to pure words to over impositional facts—Intercepted by mind-numbing
waves of ex dues machine or a ‘flawless’ apparatus with a meter of human decency
to accept only the lineage of video game history as such (in the history that I
have alternatingly perused:
1. PONG (home entertainment, single game per machine)
2. PAC-MAN (American Arcade)
3. ATARI (game system)
4. GALAGA (American Arcade)
5. NES (game system)
6. LEGEND OF ZELDA (game cartridge for NES)
7. SEGA (game system)
8. Super NES (game system)
9. PLAYSTATION (game system)
10. X-BOX (game system)
11. Wii (interactive virtual game-land)
12. Playstation 3 (game system)
These are the milestones of gaming, apart from the home computer, which has been
domineering the market since the advent of computer programming….

JOHNNY GUITAR (TIME CAPSULE FILM REVIEW genre: Post-classic Western)
Sterling Hayden stars in this knock-down drag-out no holds barred, blistering
tale of passion, guitars, gunfights and romance. Nicholas Ray masterfully guides
the film through a Rio Bravo-esque restaurant and the female protagonist, Joan
Crawford, refuses to give up her place no matter how corrupt the local genteels
accuse her of being. One man points out sarcastic to honor the new romance
between Hayden and Crawford, saying, “all a man needs is coffee and cigarettes.’

That is until a lynch mob comes after your lover, guilty by association. The
final gunfight is between women. Colorful in its vivid hues and saturated
tonality of flesh and blood characters set apart by the false schisms imposed
through convention of the Western frontier vs. civilization. The graphic design
of the ladies is beyond hot. Hayden is an archetypal hero to his damsel in
distress playing a rare tune to an old friend.
Sparks fly in the explicit romance onscreen heating up under conflict. A gang
that robs a bank brings Johnny’s female companion into their ensnaring outlaw
ways. The film is a precise dictate of the western outlaw typography. Ready to
abandon everything dear to them at the drop of hat; Like all bolstering
gunslingers the best shooter takes all in a gunfight, hands down.

CIV. Textual Strategies
(sample)
Berrnard Herrnstein Smith
1. The Exile of Evaluation—Try this on for a Laodicean epic poem—why hath the
rulers neglected significant
Interpretation of extraordinary
Prolific hermeneutics
In France along the Seine on the Right Bank there was a hard-back volume of
information about the beauty of Sodom and Gomorrah—whence I saw that evil could
be used for good in rigorous articles of sociology in the land of Tyre and Sidon

I too find honor, cultural values and discipline—scholarship and criticism,
approved by axiological skepticism—
Canaanites have sentience, as does Hebraic Tribal scholarship (For a relief in
measured aggression at this phase, pop in a copy of the VHS bootleg, TV version
of ‘Tape Heads’) to neutralize the Romans from killing Christ deception will no
longer thrive, even before Judas can replete and diminish this angering fire
without neural impulses of a sonnet…
From Keats—efficient
Wilcox—valuable
In a Thomas Hobbes, John Locke double-kingdom, as a divisor for
philosopher—kingdom one is fair to all—the other is a man among men



TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (Style: French New Wave)
Celine and Julie Go Boating
An abstract French New Wave epic testifies on the limitlessness of the filmed
art form. Celine and Julie of the title find themselves in a predestined life
objectified by all others. After chasing each other around through the city and
ditching their normal lifestyles, they channel a film within the film with
witchcraft. To make matters more complex, the women discover a little girl in
their cinematic hallucination that deserves to be set free from impending death.
Celine and Julie float silently on a boat after rescuing the child, which they
accomplish in over three hours of New Wave magic. Jacques Rivette, the director,
is an alchemist with images, as his characters are alchemists within the film.
Challenging and aesthetically flawless the film ranks among the top of the New
Wave.
Rivette’s enormous undertaking reinvents the language of cinema, with a feminist
perspective, no less. Whether or not Celine and Julie are lovers remains
unanswerable, however, they share a love for each other that breaks through
boundaries of tradition. They reveal reciprocity of improvised playfulness
toward each other that could condition a romance. The dichotomy between the
vision of the youthful innocent of classical convention and the modernist
open-endedness of the rest of the film appeals to the New Wave instinct by
deconstructing the Tradition of Quality, rescuing its usable elements from the
shambles of over used film convention. Celine and Julie meet each other in
flirtation. When they begin to trip out on magic candy, they watch like
self-reflexive film spectators the unraveling events of the repetitious house
where the child is in danger. After stealing a load of magic books (in Irma Vep
attire) they are finally accessing the film within the film on an interactive
level. They comically solve the murder and go on the boat trip of the title only
to pass by the characters from the other storyline. It is by connecting two
opposing styles and stories that the film outperforms expectations, demanding
repeated viewings. The style of Celine and Julie coming together is painstaking
in its rendering, leaving questions of mutual erotic love without answer. The
feminist touch is seen particularly when the two homo-social adult females put
an end to each other’s heterosexual partner. The improvised nuance of an Eros
for cinema’s gaze is a fantasy film of creative and complex elements and without
question a masterpiece of movie screen wizardry.

Chit-chat—as though rabble and other agendas don’t haunt a generation in 1968
E.D. Hirsch Jr. revitalized sexual evaluation formulated magisterial, analytics,
sign-dialectics, positivist/humanist and only the historian critics like Mikhail
Bakthian for reception aesthetics watching out for deceptors Foucault style and
Derrida (a risk willing to take) invisibly warps away established evaluation for
exhibition—masterpieces of philo-literature with ‘direct value-judgment of
informed good taste’ Hollywood history guided by the fates of the silent-era for
rewarding whispering community

The establishment of United Artists (between)
Mary Pickford—Queen of the 20’s
Douglas Fairbanks – Legend of Acting and Stuntwork
Chaplin—Actor, Writer, and, to say the least director
D.W. Griffith—The anti-deceptive
Producer, Director and Writer

See also ‘Sparrows’ for Pickford’s delicate balance…
See also ‘Thief of Baghdad’ for Fairbanks ‘stunt trials’
See also ‘The Kid’ for Chaplin’s shortest anti-flawed cinematographic effort
See also ‘The Birth of a Nation’ for the rowdiest film of all time

Athena—
Product of evolutionary mechanisms

Hera
‘reward-zone’
This too remains problematic

(St. Bartolomeo’s)
Endurance of certain classic canonical works divergence of errors (all streams
reach the ‘eternal life’ of the sea at last/life eternal)

Axiology
Human-variables and divergent errors—
Hume’s essay
Standard of Taste ‘imposed’
‘nature’s relational attendance to caprice imperfection in organic volumes
unless influenced by General principles.’

NOW DOTH THE PRAGUE AFRICAN MILLIPEDE SPIRAL UPWARDS FOR A POSE—Enter me for
comfort—

Simple icons help to pass into the realm of simple materials
1. Clock
2. Dictionary
3. A door stop
4. ‘a curio’ an objective—subject) although even ‘curio’ is bric-a-brac in
survival creatures realizes and appreciates to misuse generic classifications.
But what is the effective function
Ornamental names
Take this name for example
Apollonia
A pure, non utilization, interest-free

Aphrodite
Gratuitous activities

Function the experience
Marketplaces recognize the
Value of ‘free-entity’ analogous to ‘interactivity’
Analogous to ‘interactivity’
For fixed attributes

It’s like the Cinema of Ozu versus deception
From Tokyo Chorus to Tokyo Story to the ‘Equinox’ through ‘Floating Weeds and ‘I
was born but…’ for the block—these films are
1. objective
2. absolute
3. Universal
4. Transcendent
5. The films have aesthetic axiology.
6. ‘belongs to ‘features’ that are both ‘qualities’ and properties of the
Japanese Film Tradition—setting a course for
1. Female needs
2. Cultural interests
3. Divine purposes
4. Ultimate self-interest
Between ‘yugen’ and ‘mono-no-aware’ the must be ‘mappo’

In other words an indefinable moment—meets awareness of loss and nature takes
its course to wrap up the time to weep and laugh into one ideology. All
Ozu-cinema is an ‘overall work of art’ and ‘literature’ and ‘interest’ in a
world of technophilia and ancient Buddhist practice…

A face of fear among idols
In a briefcase of icons
A history without facts
Even in a humanist fantasy interpose
Only the eyes of the digital in the sacks
Extension and refinement arose
From a sphere of Micah and likens
Let us not talk about it and say we didn’t


TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (style/genre: neo-classic/comedy)
CITY LIGHTS
Chaplin is the master of shifting between hilarious laughter and bittersweet
sentiment. In City Lights he magnifies the comedy in different episodes of
misadventures. Most memorable is the wacky boxing match he gets involved in
hiding behind the referee. He takes on many jobs otherwise he’ll remain a
penniless tramp, sleeping on a town square statue. Always representing the
underprivileged the Tramp is contrasted with the rich man that Chaplin saves
from suicide. Chaplin’s tramp finds himself in love with a blind girl and she
reciprocates though not without hardships do they get together. This film is
among the best of all comedies blending slapstick with satire, greeting moments
of laughter and bliss as a contrast to Chaplin’s dark side of the city;
loneliness, sadness and death. Yet the darkness is played up for the light. In a
hilarious moment the tramps rich friend drives drunk through the city nearly
crashing at every turn. Something is to be said of Chaplin’s satirical edge
capturing the topsy-turvy quality of the city without flinching he sends up even
suicide for a joke. Masterful direction, delicate compositions ethical object
lessons nothing beats the tramp for timing at pantomime and ultimately his CITY
LIGHTS is a laugh riot out of nowhere.

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (Extra Credit)
Imagine specific value
Functions of conceptual
Perusal with project recognition

Inquiry
2. Economics of Literature and Aesthetic
Dynamic of an economic system,
Involving commodities as Gold, bread and other ‘use-value,’ like a ‘paperback’
of MOBY DICK

TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (style: modernist)
PAGE OF MADNESS--1927

Kinugasa’s much sought after silent landmark is among the first to use
flashbacks, flashforwards and an out of sequence narrative order. After a woman
drowns her child she is sent to the psyche ward where all of her delusions are
acted out despite her father’s interference. Of the avant-garde works, this film
approaches the apex of the Zen plateau.
The lighting, framing, montage and cinematography create a pattern of light and
shadow that mesmerizes the viewer. NOH masks are worn to reveal increasing
madness. The whole work reveals the subjective state of psychosis in its most
intense form. Even Shock Corridor does not rival the spectacle of PAGE OF
MADNESS. The sheer episodic spasm unveils a pattern within the chaos of the
random shots. The woman is always is a state of insanity, increasing from within
her and externally, as well. The people in the hospital appear mad and the
father tries to awaken his daughter before she loses her senses entirely. She
does not respond to him and ultimately falls into a catatonic stupor. This film,
deserves a place in the silent film masterpiece historical canon. RASHOMON is
only one example of a film that borrowed from the pages of MADNESS.

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (Make-up Homework)
Milton explained through Blackmore through the epic poem of Creation
Disvalued to bring about value ‘evading’ Eliot’s
Zone for diversity and conflict
With judgment of exotic
Audiences and a healthy dose
Of deception—on the outskirts—even this evasion is dramatized by
Conflicting judgments

SONNET #4
Prufrock Hughes consistent in mode
Socio-time in ghetto dialect
Painful, irrelevant comparisons abode
Dismal times have been re-erect

Counterpart to tastes and preferences the illusion if consensus is all around—or
standard—discount products are all maintainable functions or impoverishment of
background and education to become outlandish, irregular for material
specifications of an ‘ideal reader’ to be underspecified by deception to
reiterate psychic health—for contingent selections—or as in the traditional view
of ‘HUME’ is
‘objective intuition
Value judgments’
‘cluster of behavior compulsions’
A standard bank account
Is ‘empiricist’ and idealist’
Through this logic
We come to
‘standards and deviations’
Similar pathologies
Divergent
a) wide spectrum
b) intractable through cultural challenging
c) responsive to circumstantial context—

TIME FOR A QUIK-FIXER UP DIANETIC—SCIENTOLOGY MOND-GAME

3. Form, Function and Contexts
Punctuate performance

Narcosynthesize dilemmas
Like what ‘goods’ are
Allowed in the ‘contest of sentiments’

Among these recurrent residual
Calculations of being and behavior
Verifiability comments on theatrical ‘explicit’ reserved for
Social interaction

ANIMALAE—quality food and water supply (necessities)
INSECTAE—relay to decode isolated responses
AVIAE—suspect propositional status of ability for flight, for example
MAMMALIAE—evaluators of professional rivals

Measure the scientific instrument:

The micro-scope—eye-piece
Focal point of apparatus
More overt value judgments
Of cell-splitting organisms
Have proven evolution in
Academia—when mitochondria
In a single-cell organism splits
It as an artwork of ionospheric
Proportions. Canonical audiences,
Duly noted—

One new rule
Make the under-appreciated if Homer, Dante and Shakespeare were to formulate a
fifth sonnet to deliver unto thine many kingdoms.

CV. (105)
HENRY LOUIS GATES JR.
(textual strategies)
Writing ‘Race’ and the Difference
It Makes
The truth is Renaissance fades
to make us at one with the shades
‘leaders of profession’ there is no trickster to
Trivialize alongside the wickster
---thresholds are dangerous—

1. Changing emergent
No longer desires infusion
2. Archaeology
Bound by time and money constraints
Changing conditions to secure from
Risk in the underground

3. Embody the likeness of like
HANS-GEORG GADAMER
‘unlimited’
Philo-king Kant for
The limitation
‘test of time’ designed to ‘fit’ ‘question’ your social
Position for a radical iconoclasm—even a friend among word-thieves
Can pass without hate or deception.

MOVIE OF THE DAY; WOODY ALLEN’S BANANAS—Sept 1. 2009

If only St. Augustine and St. Aquinas believed in the core values of rigidly
defined
Cultivating of their interests
Development of taste
Abandonment of deception

Words, time and energy
To justify the work of female author of prefigured—presumptive audiences
fittingness of transitory of allures—marked figures without rank-ordering and
evaluations among common
Reader, small-town librarian, or simple long talks about meaningless-nothing—

(taciturn)

Words of the wise
SCATALOGICAL IMPRACTICUM
The less people – the higher the value
Die
Manifest destiny - without articulation
Conditions that absolute
Hate with
Deception
--are translates, imitated, cite
For commentary—
Shadows—swodahs---
==disappearing at==sworders
Unlife-life
-physical relic—
Archaeology to anthropology
--skull cracker—
In other words, food for sheep—

I have a great idea as to how you could splice together recorded or preferably
photographed and uploaded to computer format (like .jpg for
example)...Anyway...take pictures of notecards that have the dialogue and a
slight touch of other marginal information--like a brief setting establishment

TITLE CARD (examples)
#1 (At the outdoor round table)
That morning when the detective came to visit...

#2 "I have not read it, but I know what it is about..."
--MICHAEL (j.p.)

At any rate, after photographing, splice the footage into setting changes and in
between talking phrases that cannot be heard...just drown the whole thing out in
rock-and-roll

For Clay M.


(TEXTUAL STRATEGIES—Unit 7)
(sample)
Strings attached , no money
and all freedom, coin is
Tempting in this realm, but
The more demons you destroy
The presupposition of enlightenment
Discovers movie attendance
--—

Here is the clerical responses (to choosing classes for FRESHMEN entering with
an art path in mind, at a top-notch University)
Of St. Luke and St. Bartolomeo
‘cineaste’ for elective
‘Kant’ for major ‘take-over’
Of the dignity of new criticism—elective of choice
And in honor of ‘communications’ open up a book titled ‘practices of looking’

Theoretical Rhetoric: Do you believe in the power of ‘statues’?

Red Mage guide
To anti-oppression
(style—Final Fantasy—Video Game)
Greek and Latin gods burn’d
For our poetica practicum
Send in the electronic bard
To Publick elementals, Numbers
Are becoming less oppressive, to
Simulate an issue of species or
Rank—Red species of mage rank—Cover your eyes before
You get swoon or –HEAL-
Free your enslaved mind from
A ‘non-relationship,’ which
Freely distributes info with no ‘strings attached’ (see above)



Interjected Side Tangent
A Sophomore English Paper from Matt Crowe (written 9-5-00) (with correction
advice)

Blackmail: Reader Response
One may oversee when watching (hearing) Blackmail, as does Poague In his essay,
that the film’s central preoccupation is with sound, juxtaposition to visual
stimuli. (teacher note: how can you more precisely show relation of this phrase
the rest of sentence? Could be several things as it hangs out at an end now—none
of them unambiguously…why? Furthermore, the relationship between sound and the
absence of sound is accentuated in a way that would seem to usher the audience
into the new age of film media. While I disagree with Poague that such
development can be so easily divided into ‘fine primary “movements,” I do
recognize many of the same moments as being crucial to the process of
integrating sound into film.

Blackmail was marketed solely on the basis that it had sound where other films,
had not specifically dialogue sound to sound. The fable of the “tortoise and the
hare” encapsulates the two different approaches one could have taken in creating
the first film with sound to be shown in Britain. The hare, feeling that
everyone is only there to hear people talk would feel obliged to immediately
introduce said talking into the film. The brilliance Hitchcock displays in the
production is tortoise-like in that, the tortoise is aware of the longevity of
the race, or film, as it were; therefore, he is in no hurry to display the aural
content that the audience is pining for. Such restraint imparts to the audience
a certain confidence (pg 2. Of essay) in the work itself with or without sound;
more importantly it holds the audience for a whole reel, waiting to hear the
first word. In short, Hitchcock made a big deal out of sound. Recognizing the
mistake of displaying sound too quickly, he created an atmosphere intensely
self-aware of its new medium, so that the audience would be as well. He
maintains this tone through the entire film with moments that set sound and
silence in contrary environments, separated by spatial, temporal, physical and
mental states of existence.
Many examples of these are set out in Poague’s essay; however, it is more
beneficial to organize such moments according to which relationship I used to
play the sound against the silence rather than a strictly linear fashion (like a
modern technological device, like AVID non-linear editing computers that allows
for manipulation of the sequences under the director’s command etc. by dropping
chunks of footage into several timelines and leaving spaces between one line and
the next [two parallel horizontal grids under the edit box to the right and the
timeline footage and sound emanating from the test launcher to the left] and
these spaces will drop-in straight into the timeline, in the order to then recut
the film to fit the model of the recording studio level soundtrack,)
distinguished by arbitrary divisions of the plot. As Poague mentions,
approximately the first fifteen minutes of the film are silent except for the
sound effects of doors opening and the like, which are interspersed
conspicuously, heightening the audience’s awareness that no words have yet been
spoken. When the first talking does occur it is not over-dramatized, as
Hitchcock has already created the ambiance of tension building to audible
speech. From this point on, Hitchcock no longer uses a temporal plane to
separate sound from silence but rather from states that are produced by the
narrative itself. Spatial relationships dominate the film’s play. Some of the
most notable are observed through opening and closing of doors. The doors
separate the sound from the silence (like an arena-mode of sound and structure)
but rather from states that are produced by the narrative itself. Spatial
relationship dominate the film’s sound play. As film once separated those two
characteristics; furthermore, the doors in question all have clear glass panes,
an opaque border with a transparent center, causing them to resemble fill cells,
thus heightening the metaphor. These come at different times in the movie: the
door to the restaurant in which, Frank and Alice argue, causing Alice to leave
with Crewe, separates the busy noise of many people eating. The door to Alice’s
father’s shop separates the bustling London streets from the quiet business of
the newsstand. Finally, the phone booth separates the conversations inside from
outside; in this case, the audience is at the whim of the camera’s perspective,
which determines by proximity what they will hear.
Other relationships are based on the states of the characters themselves, their
physical relationship to one another as well as their mental states of being. An
instance that shows the sound relationship physically is the scene in which
Frank misses out on the joke between the random cop and Alice. In this case
sound relationship shown according to the mental states of the characters,
specifically Alice. As we see her state of mind change, we both see and hear
things differently. When she first enters Crewe’s flat, the mute painting of the
jester appears harmless,; it has nothing to say. However, after she has murdered
Crewe the pictures carries a loud accusatory overtone. While the picture itself
has not changed, she has, causing it to now speak volumes to her. As for the
actual sonic quality of the film while Alice is upset, horns seem to honk louder
in a menacing fashions, the bird is chirping in a heightened tone and volume.
All of these sounds are much more acute given the character’s state of mind. The
place this is most poignantly revealed is in the breakfast conversation in
‘KNIFE!’ is the only thing that the audience hears. We are separated from the
rest of the dialogue by her condition.
While I agree with Poague that Hitchcock played up the distinction between sound
and silence throughout the film, it would appear better for the sake of analysis
to examine such occurrences according to ‘how’ they either divide the audience
from sound or mesh the audience with sound. Poague seems to feel comfortable
looking at it as a matter of linear progression, this however, predates the
film’s complexity and ultimately makes for an inadequate analysis.

(B+--interesting distinctions you make from Poague’s way for—as you speak very
interestingly of your example.
Your punctuation is a bit alarming. Genius is in the details; so let’s work on
this.)


(pg.3 of essay)


Time Capsule (Film Commentary…Genre: Neo-classical horror)
Haxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages

The haunting silent masterpiece Haxan is unchallenged for spectacle of the
macabre. Coming out in 1922 with director/writer Benjamin Christensen starring
as the devil, he delivers a performance as disturbing as the satanic mass
presented throughout. Supernatural images of witchcraft fantasy are juxtaposed
by psychiatric patients under the modern day spell of hysteria. Christensen is
ambiguous by creating a dichotomy between real witches and those in the Middle
Ages that were tortured to the point of lying about being a witch. Notice how
there is a tongue in cheek attitude toward the possibility of a real witch,
engaged in her magic, kissing Satan’s ass (literally), and burning babies to eat
at black mass. Yet, the true horror of the witch trials are equally scary, still
comical in a way and lend credence to the pseudo-documentary’s multiple points
of view. The opening chapter of ancient paintings of witchery sets the stage for
the images to come.
Disturbing often to the level of the grotesque, the witchery practiced is dark
in its origin. The witches learn to take flight on their brooms, fluttering
through the air due to magical ointment. Early witchcraft delves into the
satanic, and the personified entity of evil seduces his gathering with sexual
advances in the night. In a skewed viewpoint of an out of body experience, a
dirty witch is tantalized by visions of desirous wealth, robbed by Satan and his
demonic minions. Without hesitation, Christensen blurs the line between fantasy
and reality often confusing the two modes of representation through a deep
presence of dangerous evil known by the church as well as the witches. Never
once is the force of evil quieted by a good magic, instead at the base of all
witchery is a demonic evil so powerful that it takes over the hearts and minds
of all involved. Thus, the comparison of witchcraft to modern hysteria is
another attribute of ambiguous storytelling that fails to delineate whether
actual witches exist or if it is all to be taken as insanity. However, the dark
images of the satanic mass resonate deeply in the mind as a confession of the
darkest side of demonic impetus. This revelation of evil is played out in a
dramatic arena for provocation of fear of the supernatural otherness of demonic
witches. The film creates a metaphysical picture of a totality of witchcraft
practices, never certain if the revelations within depict the real or unreal.
The catharsis comes from a double reading of witches as psychotics versus
witches as profound influencers over the spiritual realms. Demon possessed nuns,
out of body experiences and an excessive degree of demonic special effects make
for a film that has no choice but to put the audience under its spell.

(STYLE: EXPERIMENTAL)
Dog Star Man
Auteur Stan Brakhage unleashed the most potent experimental film with frame by
frame cell painting mixed with varied live action pioneering the art form along
with Andy Warhol. Though Salvador Dali and Dziga Vertov contained experiments,
as well as the French Impressionist school, the movement disappeared until
Brakhage reawakened the intelligent hybrid of form and content as an abstract
ideal. His pure cinema is silent, leaving it to the images to coalesce to a
grand explosion of sights that rattle the senses. The film consists of five
parts of rapid cutting including the prelude, which is practically the length of
the rest of the films put together. Brakhage’s montages are revealed in his body
of work of which he has 400+ films under his belt. Incidentally, Dog Star Man is
an encounter with form at its finest, displaying a phantasmagoria of color
cascading freely in space. Light and shadow imageries dance in an infinite
vortex of Brakhage’s masterpiece composition.
The naturalist aesthetic presents a cosmic flood of flickering images that
collide to the rhythm of Brakhage’s expertise. Utilizing every trick film
technique, his formal style pushes the boundaries of experimental filmmaking. As
the film portrays his wife giving birth, superimpositions of flaring color flash
by to heighten the dramatic intensity of the visuals. Brakhage disposes of
narrative film characteristics such as story and representational images. Thus,
he leads the pack of the “New American Cinema” independent directors. Mixing
blood, the moon, snow, flesh, microorganisms and mountains, the senses are
hypnotized by the active experience. In between the frames, Brakhage plays a
role in the film as a woodsman fighting with his dog on a mountain, further
interjecting his personality into the pictures that are all under his authorship
and control. The film is a depiction of a dream cycle that captures all four
seasons of nature. The excitement generated by Brakhage’s meticulous
construction produces kinetic energy rushing through the viewer. The scope of
the work landed the film worthily in the National Registry. No other experiment
has outdone Dog Star Man’s essence of humanity in a dream-life of seasonal
transitions. At a first glance what appears chaotic later turns to an exacting
musical of perfected order, which returns to chaos. The cyclical breakthrough of
the mind’s perception becomes a playground of style, nothing short of intricate
purity. Once the abstract experimental animation of Dog Star Man works its
magical alchemy on the spectator, there’s no going back and life will never be
the same.
The Decline and Fall of Western Commerce

The Russian experiment of Pavlov’s dogs proved that conditioned responses
activate a repetitious behavior in the animal kingdom. Ever since, the very same
methodology has been employed by greedy businessmen that search to sell
commodities, which have become more disposable by the second. Instead of ringing
a bell to illicit the desire for food, the merchants of our present day cluster
bomb of conglomerate culture, fall all over themselves to remind a consumer to
purchase yet another overpriced item that they quite possibly do not need. As
most clothing available at the local mall is most likely connected to
imperialistic slavery, the center of commercial attractions is chock full of bad
karma.
In fact, there is an essential flaw in the design of an infrastructure, which
bases itself on the paradigm that one must own more expendable merchandise than
the next person in order to initiate status as a true American. Contemptuous as
all this may seem, there is no stopping the mechanisms of a society based on
status-producing materialism. And the ultimate insult is that inflation
generally guarantees the object of desire is priced far higher than it’s worth
(not to mention, its cost of creation!)
The functional role of a mall is, in effect, a lure of hypnotic messages all
feeding the same frenzy of buying for the sake of buying. Without question, the
veneer of a working capitalist system imposes standardization of product in an
effort to cast forth a wave of guilt to those who do not buy on credit.
(Interesting how a credit card company now advertises that it is a crime to use
cash, because it slows everything down.)
When taking the plunge into the surface aesthetic of a mall’s backdrop, even the
most hardened cynic will feel the urge to drop some coin. The persuasion of
colonial empowerment is a life defined by possessions. From the escalation of
immoral Holiday sales to the jeweler’s blood diamonds, there is a lurking cash
cow around every corner of a mall’s interior. “All in good fun,” is an empty
slogan full of broken promises. Is happiness really gained by the amount of
money a person has?
Somewhere in this scathing critique of the hub of unnecessary expenditures—the
mall—there must be an upside to the void of shadows. The largest mall in
America, as David Guterson writes, is “an immense zone of entertainments.”
(555). Therefore, a basic need of cathartic thrills is fulfilled by the
implication of a compulsive shopping spree.
Yet, the very social activities based on purchasing high priced goods made to
last less than a year, create a climate inducing followers of the ways of the
mall to gather together and sing the praises of the fake institution that it is.
It is not accidental that in the movie Dawn of the Dead a gathering of flesh
eating zombies find their way to a supermall as though the mindless undead are
attracted to the structured space like some evil magnet is drawing them there.
However, consider for a moment that not everything about consumerism is corrupt.
A “primarily American phenomenon,” as Paco Underhill words it, is actually a
social step in the direction of democracy. (549). Supply and demand is still a
basis for the marketplace’s cooperation with the masses. Interactivity exists
for an educated buyer that does not take an item for face value, in that a
shopping mall overachiever could walk away with a bundle of cultural value that
they requested a store to carry.
Also, free trade is an issue that emphasizes bank rolled stores in a mall to
characteristically induce paranoia. Ultimately, one must succumb to the
pressures of debt to rescue the collapsing markets, as the global markets tap
into the beautiful apocalypse that is emptying pockets everywhere. In short,
scare tactics work.
A journey to a mall in an economic crises like that being faced at present, is
to partake of the death of the value of the dollar firsthand. A piece of cloth,
as mentioned above, is usually crafted by the suffering hands of an underpaid
worker in an exploitive textile industry, and costs fifty cents to make. The
same piece of cloth, in a mall, costs fifty dollars to buy. Perhaps the smoke
and mirrors of the local symbolic mall of the up and coming one world bank will
become the final addiction of the mass market. And, like Pavlov’s experiments
with dogs, sooner or later, the scientist will take away the meat, but produce
the same conditioned response, as though the meat were still there.
--Jarren Pope (Mesa State College)

TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (Test Room)
Here we reach the ‘waterloo’ of critical theories last stand—
African person of letters in the eighteenth century
A block chain of signifiers
In the Great Chain of Being
‘differences’ in high approval
Rating are a ‘certificate
Humanity’ as put by
Paulin J. Hountodj
A white man Gronniosaw
Differences (with a razz-mat-tazz—favorite ‘Thin-Man’ beverage of calmness

In the Mohammedan movement
Among black visionaries
‘We feel therefore we are’
I am an anti-‘colonialist’
Do you understand—

Peer back into Hollywood Classical Cinema fig 22.1 and fig 23.1, fig 23.3

22.1—Lighting with incandescence Warner’s SINGING FOOL (1928) with Al Jolson—and
here too we must pause for no essential reason—

(TO BE CONTINUED)

RED MAGE guide
To anti-oppression
(Style: Final Fantasy style—Video Game)
Greek and Latin gods burn
For our poetica practicum
Send in the electronic bard
To Publick elementals, Numbers
Are becoming less oppressive, to
Simulate an issue of species or
Rank—Red species of mage
Rank—Cover your eyes before
You get swoon or –HEAL-
Free from your ensnared mind from
A ‘non-relationship,’ which
Freely distributes info with no
Strings attached, no money,
And all freedom, coin is
Tempting in this realm, but
the more demons you destroy
the presupposition of enlightenment
discovers movie attendance

--
Here is the clerical responses (of a freshman class for choosing classes at an
esteemed university)
Of St. Luke and St. Bartolommeo
‘cineaste’ for the elective
‘KANT’ for philosophy
‘dignity of new criticism’ for communications
‘practices of looking’ for a course reader guide critical studies class
(16 units, at four units a piece)
--
Dark Magick
Necromantic Jester’s allowed
In the House of Lords

Lucifer ends.

Rue di Rivoli—‘The glance inscribed in the lost touch of ‘peyote,’ ‘acid,’
‘speed,’ ‘cocaine,’ ‘PCP,’ ‘heroin,’ and ‘pills,’
Gesture Mary Jane to a Whore
To receive local
unity
Some running races were meant to
Be thwarted on the way to victory
--

WICCANICUS PRACTICU-UM
Heal potion—
Multitude of streams
(pray for the rivers)

Natural spices.
Anatomy and taxonomy

Implicit and cultural
Milieu

Philology and etymology
What is composed
Is decomposed

Wormwood meets Deception
‘When race wards are defeated
So too, will this curse be broken’

Words of the wise
SCATALOGICAL IMPRACTICUM
The less people -- the higher
Die the value
Manifest destiny – without articulation
Conditions that absolve
Hate with
Deception
--are translated, imitated, cited
For commentary—
Shadows – swodahs—
Words like a –snap-dragon-
--disappearing act –sworders—
Unlife – life
-physical relic-
Archaeology to anthropology
-skull cracker-
In other words
(the sophomore workload is food for thoughtful sheep—
(Junior level)
If only St. Augustine and
St. Aquinas believed in the
Core values of rigidly defined

Cultivating their interests
Development of taste
Abandonment of deception

Words, time and energy
To justify the work of
Female author of prefigured—
Presumptive audiences
Fittingness of transitory
Of allures—marked figures
Without rank-orderings and
Evaluations among common
Reader, small-town librarian,
Or simple long talks about
Meaningless-nothing—

NEXT THRESHOLD GUARDIAN—HATOR—
1. Changing emergent
no longer desires infusion

2. Archaeology
Bound by time and money constraints
Changing conditions to secure
From risk in the underground
3. Embody the likeness of like
Hans-Georg Gadamer-
‘unlimited’
Philo-king Kant for
The limitation
‘test of time’ designed to
‘fit’ ‘question’ your social
Position for a radical iconoclasm (s)—
Even a friend among word-thieves
Can pass without hate or deception.

One new rule
Make the under-appreciated
If Homer, Dante and Shakespeare
Were to formulate a fifth
Sonnet to deliver unto the
Kingdom’s of Walt—
--
Henry Louis Gates Jr.
(textual strategies)
Writing ‘Race’ and the Difference
It Makes
The truth is that Renaissance fades
To make us at one with the shades
‘leaders of profession’ there is no trickster
Trivialize along-side the wickster
Semantic words are expressive
Deconceive notions of hate
Preconceive notion to rate
In reality we all need deception
To become meaningless—
Next threshold
-Oppressor-

Ross Erolo-
What is the “Other”
African, Arabic, Chinese, Latin
American or Yiddish
What sparks hate between
These cultures
Is different beliefs in different spirits—
The true national ploy at the moment
Is to thwart fear of novicery in a
Land of pressurized hate which must be
Hazed for the block (SCREENING ROOM: SPARTACUS)
--
The ‘final’ multicultural
Interlude about lighting
Sets—Debate over canon
Concerns in cinema is something
Like national culture
‘national university curriculum’
In Bordwell ‘Classical’ (Thompson and STAIGER)
A help-up stage lights
Reclaims the legacy of
Fig 23.1 (above)
Several cameras and booths in Warners’
Vitaphone Studios, Brooklyn (1926)

23.2 (Gentlemen of Press)—1929
Posed shot illustrating multi-camera
Setup and single microphone
In Paramount’s Astoria,
Long Island studio
Light Bulb
R=bulb ‘retina’
R=c / 2 pi
C=2 pi r / r
C / r / 2 pi= 2 pi / 2 pi
=
C /r times 2 pi / 1
Or
R= “radius
Of light
Spread”
Etc.
In the Mohammedan movement
Among black visionaries
‘We feel therefore we are’
I am an anti-‘colonialist’
Do you understand—
--Dr. Suess
Peer back into Hollywood
Classical Cinema fig. 22.1 and fig 23.1, fig 23.2
22.1- (as stated) – Lighting with incandescence
Warner’s SINGING FOOL (1928)
With Al Jolson
Here too we pause to ponder again—
Here we reach the ‘water-loo’ of critical
Theories last stand—
African person of letters
In the eighteenth century
A black chain of signifiers
In the Great Chain of Being
‘differences’ in high approval
Ratings are a’certificate
Humanity’ as put by
Paulin J. Hountodj
A white man Gronniosaw
Differences (with a razz-mat-tazz—favorite ‘Thin-Man’
Beverage of calmness
(CINE-WEB)

TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (AUTEUR: HITCHCOCK and GENRE: SUPSENSE THRILLER)
NORTH BY NORTHWEST
Cary Grant plays Roger Thornhill mistaken by cold war spies as an FBI agent that
doesn’t exist engineered as a decoy and do not intervene in Thornhill’s plight,
as he is swept into an extraordinary world of suspense and espionage. Hitchcock
uses thematic metaphors of travelling throughout the episodic structure as a
connection to a ‘Picarol’ style—that is a rites of passage road film. Thornhill
fall for Eva Marie Saint’s character and he cooperates with the FBI to help her
out. He proves by the end of the film to be more than just a businessman. The
scene with the crop-duster attacking Grant in the cornfield is legendary. It
subverts the persona of Grant (as does SUSCPICION) showing a man that loves
control, while having no control whatsoever. The final climax between Thornhill
and his opponents (James Mason and Martin Landau, in key villain roles) is on
Mount Rushmore symbolizing chaos on what brought order to America. The film
ranks among Hitchcock’s top FIVE and came out right before PSYCHO, a
significantly lower budget movie. The colors, the sound and the ingenuity
coalesce to form a vibrant sensibility of movie magic that defies the norm of
art and entertainment.
PROVEN QUERY (tomorrow, yet another Final Exam for the year 3000…)

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gonzo29
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TEXTUAL STRATEGIES (Test Room)
Here we reach the ‘waterloo’ of critical theories last stand—
African person of letters in the eighteenth century
A block chain of signifiers
In the Great Chain of Being
‘differences’ in high approval
Rating are a ‘certificate
Humanity’ as put by
Paulin J. Hountodj
A white man Gronniosaw
Differences (with a razz-mat-tazz—favorite ‘Thin-Man’ beverage of calmness

In the Mohammedan movement
Among black visionaries
‘We feel therefore we are’
I am an anti-‘colonialist’
Do you understand—

Peer back into Hollywood Classical Cinema fig 22.1 and fig 23.1, fig 23.3

22.1—Lighting with incandescence Warner’s SINGING FOOL (1928) with Al Jolson—and
here too we must pause for no essential reason—

(TO BE CONTINUED)

RED MAGE guide
To anti-oppression
(Style: Final Fantasy style—Video Game)
Greek and Latin gods burn
For our poetica practicum
Send in the electronic bard
To Publick elementals, Numbers
Are becoming less oppressive, to
Simulate an issue of species or
Rank—Red species of mage
Rank—Cover your eyes before
You get swoon or –HEAL-
Free from your ensnared mind from
A ‘non-relationship,’ which
Freely distributes info with no
Strings attached, no money,
And all freedom, coin is
Tempting in this realm, but
the more demons you destroy
the presupposition of enlightenment
discovers movie attendance

--
Here is the clerical responses (of a freshman class for choosing classes at an
esteemed university)
Of St. Luke and St. Bartolommeo
‘cineaste’ for the elective
‘KANT’ for philosophy
‘dignity of new criticism’ for communications
‘practices of looking’ for a course reader guide critical studies class
(16 units, at four units a piece)
--
Dark Magick
Necromantic Jester’s allowed
In the House of Lords

Lucifer ends.

Rue di Rivoli—‘The glance inscribed in the lost touch of ‘peyote,’ ‘acid,’
‘speed,’ ‘cocaine,’ ‘PCP,’ ‘heroin,’ and ‘pills,’
Gesture Mary Jane to a Whore
To receive local
unity
Some running races were meant to
Be thwarted on the way to victory
--

WICCANICUS PRACTICU-UM
Heal potion—
Multitude of streams
(pray for the rivers)

Natural spices.
Anatomy and taxonomy

Implicit and cultural
Milieu

Philology and etymology
What is composed
Is decomposed

Wormwood meets Deception
‘When race wards are defeated
So too, will this curse be broken’

Words of the wise
SCATALOGICAL IMPRACTICUM
The less people -- the higher
Die the value
Manifest destiny – without articulation
Conditions that absolve
Hate with
Deception
--are translated, imitated, cited
For commentary—
Shadows – swodahs—
Words like a –snap-dragon-
--disappearing act –sworders—
Unlife – life
-physical relic-
Archaeology to anthropology
-skull cracker-
In other words
(the sophomore workload is food for thoughtful sheep—
(Junior level)
If only St. Augustine and
St. Aquinas believed in the
Core values of rigidly defined

Cultivating their interests
Development of taste
Abandonment of deception

Words, time and energy
To justify the work of
Female author of prefigured—
Presumptive audiences
Fittingness of transitory
Of allures—marked figures
Without rank-orderings and
Evaluations among common
Reader, small-town librarian,
Or simple long talks about
Meaningless-nothing—

NEXT THRESHOLD GUARDIAN—HATOR—
1. Changing emergent
no longer desires infusion

2. Archaeology
Bound by time and money constraints
Changing conditions to secure
From risk in the underground
3. Embody the likeness of like
Hans-Georg Gadamer-
‘unlimited’
Philo-king Kant for
The limitation
‘test of time’ designed to
‘fit’ ‘question’ your social
Position for a radical iconoclasm (s)—
Even a friend among word-thieves
Can pass without hate or deception.

One new rule
Make the under-appreciated
If Homer, Dante and Shakespeare
Were to formulate a fifth
Sonnet to deliver unto the
Kingdom’s of Walt—
--
Henry Louis Gates Jr.
(textual strategies)
Writing ‘Race’ and the Difference
It Makes
The truth is that Renaissance fades
To make us at one with the shades
‘leaders of profession’ there is no trickster
Trivialize along-side the wickster
Semantic words are expressive
Deconceive notions of hate
Preconceive notion to rate
In reality we all need deception
To become meaningless—
Next threshold
-Oppressor-

Ross Erolo-
What is the “Other”
African, Arabic, Chinese, Latin
American or Yiddish
What sparks hate between
These cultures
Is different beliefs in different spirits—
The true national ploy at the moment
Is to thwart fear of novicery in a
Land of pressurized hate which must be
Hazed for the block (SCREENING ROOM: SPARTACUS)
--
The ‘final’ multicultural
Interlude about lighting
Sets—Debate over canon
Concerns in cinema is something
Like national culture
‘national university curriculum’
In Bordwell ‘Classical’ (Thompson and STAIGER)
A help-up stage lights
Reclaims the legacy of
Fig 23.1 (above)
Several cameras and booths in Warners’
Vitaphone Studios, Brooklyn (1926)

23.2 (Gentlemen of Press)—1929
Posed shot illustrating multi-camera
Setup and single microphone
In Paramount’s Astoria,
Long Island studio
Light Bulb
R=bulb ‘retina’
R=c / 2 pi
C=2 pi r / r
C / r / 2 pi= 2 pi / 2 pi
=
C /r times 2 pi / 1
Or
R= “radius
Of light
Spread”
Etc.
In the Mohammedan movement
Among black visionaries
‘We feel therefore we are’
I am an anti-‘colonialist’
Do you understand—
--Dr. Suess
Peer back into Hollywood
Classical Cinema fig. 22.1 and fig 23.1, fig 23.2
22.1- (as stated) – Lighting with incandescence
Warner’s SINGING FOOL (1928)
With Al Jolson
Here too we pause to ponder again—
Here we reach the ‘water-loo’ of critical
Theories last stand—
African person of letters
In the eighteenth century
A black chain of signifiers
In the Great Chain of Being
‘differences’ in high approval
Ratings are a’certificate
Humanity’ as put by
Paulin J. Hountodj
A white man Gronniosaw
Differences (with a razz-mat-tazz—favorite ‘Thin-Man’
Beverage of calmness
(CINE-WEB)

TIME CAPSULE REVIEW (AUTEUR: HITCHCOCK and GENRE: SUPSENSE THRILLER)
NORTH BY NORTHWEST
Cary Grant plays Roger Thornhill mistaken by cold war spies as an FBI agent that
doesn’t exist engineered as a decoy and do not intervene in Thornhill’s plight,
as he is swept into an extraordinary world of suspense and espionage. Hitchcock
uses thematic metaphors of travelling throughout the episodic structure as a
connection to a ‘Picarol’ style—that is a rites of passage road film. Thornhill
fall for Eva Marie Saint’s character and he cooperates with the FBI to help her
out. He proves by the end of the film to be more than just a businessman. The
scene with the crop-duster attacking Grant in the cornfield is legendary. It
subverts the persona of Grant (as does SUSCPICION) showing a man that loves
control, while having no control whatsoever. The final climax between Thornhill
and his opponents (James Mason and Martin Landau, in key villain roles) is on
Mount Rushmore symbolizing chaos on what brought order to America. The film
ranks among Hitchcock’s top FIVE and came out right before PSYCHO, a
significantly lower budget movie. The colors, the sound and the ingenuity
coalesce to form a vibrant sensibility of movie magic that defies the norm of
art and entertainment.
PROVEN QUERY (tomorrow, yet another Final Exam for the year 3000…)


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FINAL FINAL
Exam
|3000|
The Godfather—difference in reformulation, a certain kind of intrinsic value
system, and to have a right to a free ascertation…
(Free write on Godfather here)

Zero for Conduct—
A French anarchist with even
a representational educational
intercultural literacy of
shaved symbolic process—
unhegemonic without a fetish
sensitive of culture
in a
cultural explosion of fads…

as in gangster film, easier to intensify through an intense ‘hoodlum’
journey…picture a Nat Turner sensibility with a they all deserve it Hughes-ian
‘core’ effective of
a unified bad faith
under canonical constraints
‘Within Our Gates’ a historical and modern transference.

Grave Danger-a film challenge
Horrifying
1-nationalist agenda
2-cathexis attentive
(pay attention to every detail)
3-stir up music with an ‘Organism’
(atypical)
4-Present the Damned in ‘King Solomon’s condition of perspective
‘Grapes of Wrath’—movie sign—
(like a goat in sheep’s wolving…)
1. The Mecanique
2. Mizoguchi progressive
Subject of pedagogy
3.legitimation among
Immediate results
4—Safe Passage
1-The Hubble Telescope
2-The Moon-Landing
Missions
3- Journey to MARS
4-Time-Travellin
In ‘Space Camp’
Homogeneity in thankfulness to
The good-side
Of American Government

High Cultural artifact
Eastman/Kodak film stock
Digital Cameras – Japanese Brand i.e. Samsung
DVD recorders (i.e. Sony)
VHS machine (i.e. RCA)
Dispiriting cultural transmission
Of a rational drawing
‘Steps’ must be redeemed
For its use of the shot-by-shot guide to Potemkin
In ‘filmic’ and ‘invisible’
Ideational content of
Two sci-fi projects at once:
SPACE PASSAGE and SMOOTH SAILING

Here is a better game plan
For a War film
That ‘LOST MISSION’
Tracking down issues at stake in ‘A Man Escaped’ (Bresson) to the ‘GREAT ESCAPE’
(Sturges and the ‘heart of war’)

In homologous autonomy,

Direct acting in a McQueen
Access and procedures
In pedagogical effects
In a Bourdieu war distracter
To teach us all to have fun
On an AWOL fanatic chain to
Further hide our fortresses
Of all time—

MELIES—
Buried in Pere le Chaise, all who seek his grave must leave the $1.25 he died
within final magic show to even find his grave
In a textual historical formula
Consumption of recognition
Of a pluralist critique during
Curricular reform ‘The Black
Imp’ is a syllabus of institutions of capital exhibition
With a critique of the system
Inherent in social relations with
The approval of Alternative
Analysis
JUNIOR SECOND SEMESTER
‘TV theory’
‘Jane Campion’
‘Heart of Inquisition: word-pressure and ‘Easy Rider’ theories of hegemonous
As the facts are a critical edge


FILM STUDENT SENIOR UNDERGRADUATE
THE RKO EXPERIENCE
‘Robin Hood’ (Fairbanks)
‘KING KONG’ production
‘Orson Welles) Citizen Kane
For the block
‘silent voice’ of a Hume-esque ‘chain—‘Locke convincing
Differences to beguile away
Racial demons

Feminist mode
1.Where do your priorities lie?
2. ‘Never lose your gutter,’ for the anti-classicist—

(MID DAY COFFEE AND HASH BREAK)

NUTTY PROFESSOR
In eloshi of continuation of
Jerry Lewis’ thought-docs
Fails to make a distinct
Between Classical or neo-concentrate
Or retro-conservation altruism—
What is reproduced is now
Threshold social relations
To reproduce soulful
‘barbarism’ or foreground
Barbarities of even ‘barbituates’
Or let’s play what’s in the
Potion—Sapphire dogmatism
In an inert narrativist
Scheme—

CVI (106)
GUILLORY TEXTUAL STRATEGIES
(sample test)
Latin Romance in ordinary
Speech of ironic inversions
Post-shadows—ideological
Orthodoxies are all around us
Are vectors into production
Of linguist

A Diamond crystalline
Donated to the Myad
Of dislocation
And
Absolutely Uncredentiable speech
96 per cent….
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Narcissism is about equal to Classicism
Egoism is often times misconstrued as Anti-Feminist
Solipsism is rarely ascribed to 'Racism'
idea-sploitation for the ruse...

PARTING WAS ALWAYS SUCH SWEET SORROW

CVI. (106) Textual Strategies
(sample)
A Sc-Fi Game Plan
'Space-Passage'
Latin Romance in ordinary
speech of ironic inversions
post-shadows--ideological
orthodoxies are all around us
are vectors into production
of linguist
A Diamond
Donate to the Myad
of dislocation
uncredentiable speech
A CRITICAL TRADITION---David H. Richter 96 percent

A MAN ESCAPED (Time Capsule: Style: Neo-noir Genre: Suspense-Thriller)

Bresson is at it again, using stark, austere and ascetic pictures of a man in prison
destined in the duration to break free, as the title suggests. Bresson films
impressions of the scene using offscreen sound as never before. The sound denoted the coming of the guard that rattles his key on the stairs.
Non-professional actors send-over to Hitchcock watching to see how the man
will ultimately, break out of prison. The film
is succinct, lucid, clearly detailed and familiar in Bresson's auteur style of realistic melodrama (see also Paul Schrader's Transcendent Style of Film to pass...)
The prison guard is killed by the protagonist and the man who escapes is existential knowing that
it was the guards' life that had to be taken to break free. Of all the prison escape
film's this is the most clean and meticulous, calculated every step of the plot.
The second half of the film is practically real time. IT is a thrill of a film remaining in the Bresson TOP FIVE. Bresson always creates an isolationist reality
of transcendent nature. That death is the only reality of most of his films, it is nice that in this film, a man escapes.



(Style: conformist---Genre: Suspense Thriller: Supportive)
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (reviewed)

A somnambulist is a hypnosis controlled 'sleep-walker', which is exactly what Dr. Caligari has on hand to commit murder for him.

The German Expressionist landmark utilizes the landscapes in thus world--
everything is 'topsy-turvy,' carousels balance on their sides and jagged edges in the chiaroscuro create magnificent tableau.
The somnambulist creeps along walls waiting to prey on the victim picked by his master.
Robert Wiene's construct of expressionist mastery is among the finest of the silent
eras. Siegfried Kracauer comments that the film is off kilter, that it promotes insanity. The film may not promote
insanity but it certainly represents insanity-- its most chaotic form. The low key lighting emphasizes
the darkness of the jagged sets creating mise-en-scene that reconstructs reality.
This film is key in the entire expressionist movement. Caligari's puppet Cesar entertains at a carnival,
only to stalk the town at night. What CALIGARI reveals as a film is not that art
reproduces violence to encourage it, but rather that art is art no matter the subject.
Wiene paints his landscapes with edgy material.

Like the GOLEM, a master controls his monster. It lands him in the asylum, and the story within the story plays out
in the realms of the shadows...


What cinema is: Intellectual and Intelligent, Challenging and Creative, Style, Form, and Content...

Four levees to focus on for the critically impaired (to this point, at any rate)...

1-In case the final "Klan" ride footage of the D.W. Griffith book is 'too much,' then accept the unacceptable and 'back down'
with disavowal (as this book does), with MOVIES AND METHODS I and II by Bill Nichols, thus the rest will be analyzed but
what's the point of an entire shot-by-shot recount upon "THE GUS SEQUENCE" or the formation of the Klan...when not necessarily
needed--(Not to worry, all else will follow rigidly)

2- Remember, in America, do as the Americans do--in other words, we 'always' stick up for our own...

3- More on the Movies and Modules in several (time capsules--humanist style)

4- COMING UP, an uncanny guide to script comedy, in the beginning, titled, THE FRYING DUTCHMAN...a little 'proj' I had to abandon...you'll see why...

(Please ignore the several typos for now, as I am sure the run in with the 'grammar police' will not be so fun next


time...)

5- WELCOME TO ULYSSES' WAKE: Mountaineer guide to novel reading and 'good calls': OLLY-OLLY-OXEN FREE

Have you seen Occurrence at Owl Creek lately---which means we must now:

6-Checking in with the guidance counselor of rock and roll delusions...on my Coloradan half of this epic roadshow tour...

a. I was slightly infringed upon sexually by four or five fan-cultian assaults to the senses...in and all out bout, I'd say nearly sleeping with
movie-stars, soap opera actresses and of course, the old familial entanglements with past rendezvous...are quite acceptable in terms of
promising talents...I really enjoy bar-maids and local poetic teacher females, I just don't think that any of them are the robo-bitches guys have so
often made them out to be, after all.


b. The good news is that I am epicureanly political in my wages, and all past encounters have been atoned for by the generative 'simmer down' approach to an 'alternate route' of goodmen coming...
(Give it up for the St. Mari-ian Institutions...)


c.

Dearest Dr. Casper

Sorry to drop the wrong ball---forgot it was Labor Day Weekend etc,

but so far, so good,

It's like Great Ziegfeld meets Emile Zola all over again...

Tomorrow, around 3 o 'clock, my ultra-DVD collection of PRISMATIC SPECTRUM is arriving in the STILLS ARCHIVE (Norris Basement)...

around 25 hours of footage..watch every DVD to the end to view the true roughage of an expertian musical new wave...

Look, the bands (as there are at least 20 booked and performanced so far) add up to at least a $7,000,000 act (at least)...what with the L.A. band MYSTIC FIRE signing on a few nights ago...the whole progressive rock of part one (BACK FIRE in the PRISM) is complete...I wager on the careers of all the bands...Also, the venues that took part in the act cost at least $10,000,000...and so far, the whole show has brought in a strange assortment of ticket buyers...

Basically, I have neatly gift wrapped the opening box set for you, (of at least a $99 value for all 20+ discs) and I assure you it will open up the hotbed for new directorial talent (believe me, I've spent roughly $10,000 out of pockets cash or you could say closer to $15,000...a dogmatic approach to independence I shit you not...)

Anyway, keep it secret, keep it safe, and coming in March PART TWO (the spectrum or EPIPHANY is on its way to round out the Spartacusian instinct into a more LOLITA-ian perspective...it starts with a $3,000 pyrotechnic display of huge 4th of July fireworks---of which there are a few in Part One) and ends with--so far--an esteemed colleague from the past Martin Crowe stand-up routine on healthy living...also, I have so much more DENVER CULT MUSIC lined up, that it is perfect...

The Band List (FOR PRINTING PURPOSES is)
AARON SHELEY
KAT HUNTER
DAVID ARMSTRONG
LOADED 45
DEAD COWBOYZ
RALPH DINOSAUR
CLIFF BASS
INVISIBLES (Troy DeRose)
JARREN AND JANELLE POPE
JOEL NEWTON
TOE (Matthew Crowe, Clay Milburn and Richard Moberly the Third)
(ANISETTE) in production
(LIONVIBES) to be announced
MYSTIC FIRE
PINEAPPLE CRACKAZ
SHOTGUN HODOWN
DAVID LUFF AND JOSH BOLLAN
(Including Fire-swallowers, pool sharks, band bookies, and campfire sing-alongs)
DISC 3 will take you from the VENUES: (ALSO FOR PRINTING)
D.J.'s ROADHOUSE
AVALON THEATER
MESA STATE THEATER
MESA LAKES LODGE
and many other exciting outdoor and indoor mansions, spectacle arenas and small quiet oasis linkages)
all the way to DISC 28+

I have been the Grand Manager of this whole complete operation, and you can bank on that down to the last coin...
(40 percent to the venues of production)
(30 percent of the take to the distribution)
(20 percent of the take is in the private screening rooms---such as your house, to whom you can invite whomever you want to watch along)
(10 percent goes to the namesake of the PLATO'S CAVE EXPERIENCE, my critically acclaimed production company with the reservation of my cousin, Jason D. Sheley seeking his Ph.D. at UCI, and believe me, this has been his toughest year...)

Yours for the keeping,

(and now, in my grandest BERGMAN-MANIA will walk away from the Church)

(Clip Reels and Music Videos to be cut later)

Thank you, mi padre etertinitum,

for drew casper
in the name of the improving workshop of Aaron's World (no one else touches the package until you give say so)

1-Incredible Shrinking Man
(final atonement)
(tape got fucked in my ownership)

2-Wash the residue off of the tape portions alone--plug the VHS into an old AVID video toaster
to separate animation
tracks from film tracks

(for save)

Meanwhile in Library Science terms

LS290.28 (THE EPIC HISTORY OF SMALL TOWN ROCK to the Mainstream of culture clash)

---

TO GO FOR PAR ON THE COURSE...



Frying Dutchman


a David Morris concept
Influenced by Kevbot and Joel Newton
An Aaron Sheley experiment
Draft one (to be abandoned)

OUTLINE (unmythic structure)
FRYING DUTCHMAN
Outline (Part One)-- To be later confused with part two...
(The following is animated) Every seven years, to re-'up'(Guitar Hero wrecks their ship?)
A.Herb Farmer wanders through a rainstorm narrating "Call Me Herb Famer." (The driest place he can find is a church)
B. In the church a priest preaches fire and brimstone--he prophecies that a horrible calamity will take place on a ship--as in the book of Jonah.
C.Lightning strikes the priest and Herb escapes a burning church.
CREDITS ROLL.
D. Captain Greenbeard wins a poker tournament at the thieves' guild by cheating--gets into gun battle while stashing all of the loot into a treasure chest.
E. Bar and Whorehouse Crazy Captain Drug Dealer Greenbeard meets Sailor Jerry, Admiral Nelson, and Captain Morgan who are in a neverending drinking competition--Herb Farmer enters to speak with the parrot, which has turrets syndrome)
F. All the sea-and-sky-terrorists are taken off the shit list...


EXT. Fishing Lake Cliffside--Day
Still Waters are all that is seen, a serene picture of a calm lake--

A normal fishing 'lure' shaped like a bug hits the water. After that a half naked mermaid
hits the water as another lure.

CUT TO:

EXT. Lake Side--Day
Captain Greenbeard--(C.G.)--123 years old--
does have a greenish-red beard--and wears pirate gear including eye=patch and naval uniform of green and blue--He smokes a blunt.
He is fishing while accompanied by his old friend Davey Jonesin and Herb Farmer...Davy is over a thousand years old and showing
it--Herb is the youngest of age 82.
All share fishing poles.

C.G. (Captain Greenbeard) speaks: If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, this is Ira's secret fishing spot.

D.J. (Davy Jones):Ever since I've known you C.G., you have never caught a fish, ever.

C.G.: Well, there's a first time for everything--And, you know, when we're out here fishing Mr. Davey Jonesin, I feel like we haven't ashore in Seven Years.

D.J.: But you are ashore and it literally has not been since seven years, since you have been. In fact, while you were away, the narrator of our faction experienced us all to a real treat. Some small town folk festival featuring Teresa something De-Rush...spawned some new movement of DJ flyby roadhouses with Mikey something Stewart and catch this, while Herb was shaving, the whole Platonic embryo stopped feeling like a tyrannical embryo, and enjoyed signing up the powers of MYSTIC FIRE to be delivered in From Celderado to Los Angelopoplis...which really means that in the highlands of Celderado is some tomorrow's day rock concert featurings the likes of Josh Franklin, and all.

Herb remains silent, though his eyes widen throughout. Herb is old but wise. He pulls in fish after fish every time he casts--

C.G.: Hold on mofoes, I think I've got a bite, this will be intense.

D.J.: By the way, why are you wasting your time fishing with us? Don't you know you only have one day--24 hours to be precise--to buy your drugs and get your music videos to WAGNER.

C.G: Shut the fuck up--I have bite on my line--you're searing the fish.

D.J.: Okay, seven years you're out to sea with no drugs and now that you are on land you're only here to fish?

C.G.: Listen Davey, I've got a hookup waiting in town at the tavern of whores...but he told me to give him awhile to round up the stash.

D.J.: How long ago was that?

C.G.: Oh shit, now that I think about it, he was ready to meet me hours ago.

DJ: Then reel in your line. CG reels in

CG: She's a huge beast of a fish.

CG reels in a horde of moss--his lure in gone

CG: Damn it all to hell, I lost my lure, but hey I've got lunch...

Lightning strikes and water shows signs of rain coming toward the fishermen...

lightning strikes and water shows signs of rain coming toward the fishermen

DJ: I would stay and eat some moss with you--but I hate fishing in the rain.
Herb speaks up--

H.F. (Herb Farmer): I'm going to town to get some more bait--Maybe by then, the rain will stop--

CG--Argh! The rain is about to quit anyway and fishing is better after the...

CUT TO

BLANK SCREEN

CG (Voice over): Anyway in two hours everything will be sunny skies...

SUBTITLE: 2 hours later

EXT. Street Sidewalk

The rain is now torrential downpour and Herb huddles into
his raincoat as he searches the port city for refuge.

Herb narrates while walking.

HERB VO: Call me Herb Farmer, I am a seamen aboard Captain Greenbeard's ship the FRYING DUTCHMAN. Our story begins in a small port town that we sailed to on the ship.
As Davy Jonesin' pointed out, we only come to shore every seven years. The rainstorm tonight, is such a bad omen, that only a visit to Church could save us now.

EXT. Churchyard--Day
Rain is torrential, Herb huddles under his jacket and a scary old woman approaches him in the church.

HERB: This is horrible weather.

OLD WOMAN: Horrible weather? You don't like the rain? Then why did you bring it upon us?

HERB: Well, I'm gonna go in, is that okay?

Old Woman: Beware of what haunts you,

HERB: That's why I'm going to church--

CUT TO

INT. CHAPEL--DAY
A crowd of churchgoers are seated in the pews as Herb Farmer takes his place in the front row--A church-goer lady next to Herb (practically a supermodel in looks) addresses him

Church girl: Could you sit somewhere else, you're making me horny?

Herb just moves and the priest forebodingly enters, huge beard and drunk as hell.

Priest: You've come to the right place pilgrims--I brought my flask to illustrate the wrath of God upon all ye who do not drink--Even though I drink everyday, often--do as I say not as I drink (hiccup)...The Lord substituted Rum for his blood in the New Testament. But now, I tell you a story of a whale that was so big it consumed a ship. The reason for this disaster is because God hates us. Soon, someone in this room will come face to face with God's Wrath and it will be a disaster.
You--

(Priest points at Herb)
You will bring doom upon the Earth.

Herb: For what reason?

Priest: For being alive!

Lightning and Thunder are heard as a large bolt of electricity shoots the church and sets the sacred cross in the background ablaze

Herb: (yelling) Forgive my sins father!

Priest: There is no forgiveness for you--

EXT. Churchyard--Day

Herb screams like a girl and books it out of the burning Church--as he runs from the fire the camera remains positioned on the burning church--
As the opening credits roll the church burns to the ground (Herb is apparently the only one who left)--

INT. Old Western Bar--Later Day

At a huge poker table the players are gathered around playing Texas Hold 'Em--A TV camera films the players for cable and the shot occasionally big screen switches to HD TV as noted--

First the out of nowhere Captain Greenbeard takes a seat settles down and drops all his gold coins into the pot--

CG: All in. Looking at cards is for the weak, all in.

Applause is heard--HDTV shows CG's cards as he looks at them--a pair of 2's--Poker Player # 2 is the only player that does not fold--he looks at his cards and the TV displays pocket aces for Slim Jenkins...P.P#2

Slim: you're on motherfucker, What you got?

They both reveal cards and CG's pair of 2's draw laughter from the crowd as Slim has aces.

CG: (confidently) prepare to get fucked on the flop.
(laughter from audience) The flop is shown to be Ace, King, King, which gives PP2 an advantage.

PP2: What now< I just got the boat M.F.

CGB: Double or nothing!

PP2: If I trust that you are good for it, then you should trust that I’m good for it.

CGB: I bet me own ship on it.

T.V. Announcer speaks: Oh man, that does not look like a good move by Captain Greenbeard, What do you think John?

John: I don't know there Tim, looks like he's two sandwiches short of a picnic.

Tim: So what do you mean by that metaphor.

John: Well, you’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don't.

Tim: Now back to the game.

THE TURN COMES AND ANOTHER TWO FLOPS OUT IN THE RIVER

CBG: sings: What you gonna do, what you gonna do if I get another two?"

T.V. Announcer John: Well time if he gets one more two than he takes the game.

RIVER Flips another two.

Slim: You're a cheater you cheating bastard. PP2 draws a gun.

CGB: You got five seconds to put that away.

T.V. announcer: Well this isn't the first time I've seen a game end in a bloody battle, How bout you Tim?

TIM is gone

T.V. announcer: Well, it looks like CGB has won again.

CUT TO

INT. Poker Cash Out Window--Later

CASHING OUT

CGB hobbles to the counter putting his gun away awaited by a dwarf who looks like he stepped out of a children's book.

Dwarf: We've got a problem buddy we're out of money here

CGB: I am sure we can come to a compensatory settlement of some other kind...

Dwarf: Captain Greenbeard, let's be frank--I know you know that to the victor goes the spoils, right, but it is only fair that the best man wins, and you realize this is only legal for you now, not for others...I've known you for how many years and I know what you want--the hard drugs we're got will make your next seven years at seas smooth sailin--

CGB: Oh what I tangled web I've woven--I've heard that bullshit before--I'll tell you a secret, I've got quite a few different outlooks on the dealers all over town.

Dwarf: Captain, do I really expect you to settle for less? And if I know you this won't be your only stop before you leave port. Step into my office.

CUT TO

INT. POKER HALL BACK ROOM VAULT--

The dwarf is near a large vault door--a camera in the corner records his every move--The vault door speaks to him.

Vault--Blood Sample Required

Dwarf: This will only take a minute Captain--

A rusty dirty needle appears out of a compartment in the vault--

The dwarf shrieks in agony as the needle stabs him--

Vault begins to shake and rumble opening up to a spotlit smorgasbord of an ascending order: heroin, cocaine, LSD and a huge bag of weed.

CGB: Is that all you got? Well, normally I kill people for less but since you are retarded.

Dwarf: Actually, I'm a dwarf

CGB: Exactly. Anyway I'll take it.

CUT TO

INT--Den of a whorehouse--

CGB speaks to an African-American pimp

CGB: Listen, you know I come ashore for only one thing only--The sweet queen of heaven--you know--the Jane--

Pimp: You'd trade a woman's hand for something as stupid as that?

CGB: Well, these days, I'd defend a person like you--if only you'd find the trade as important to me, as women are to you!

PIMP: You've got to be shittin me!

CGB: Well, you know more about the love of a gal, but I have much more love of a whole different bitch Mary--you dig?

PIMP: All right, you asked for it! Mary, get your ass in here!

The sleekest, sexiest, bombest whore in the whorehouse approaches age 17 named Mary

Mary attempts to seduce CGB

CGB-Well, if she's cozy with providing Mary Jane, then she's cozy with me.

Mary- I should matter more than pot--Or don't you want to...

CGB--Well, if you belong to a pimp--then maybe you should be truer to him then to me. Besides, I'm looking for you and know that...wait are you down with the brown?

Mary--I am the living personage of smoking, motherfucker.

Pimp--All right, well, are you in for the whole package deal of--you know, a will to a shower, breathing in time--or would you rather sail off with only drugs.

CGB whispers to Pimp--I'd trade all the women of the world, particularly those belonging to you--for God's Green Herb!

Pimp to CGB: What's my cut?

CGB: Did you grow it?

Pimp: Hey dog, I'm just the distributor.

CGB: All right, 40 percent to the grower, you know the production, 30 percent to the distributor, being you and I take the ends.

Pimp: So, you really don't want to sleep with Mary?

CGB: Roll her in a joint, and then I'll smoke her!

Pimp: Easier, done then said, captain!

CGB: Then just give me my booty and lets cut into three thirds, four-thirds of the profit charge, with a dueling margin of interested and bookkeepers for the half and half premise, do you get my cut?
Let's get the fuck out of here!

Pimp: Whatever you say, you're the boss.

Pimp: Besides, I've got bigger fish to fry. Don't forget to the tip the bouncer on the way out Greenbeard. He is feeding eight generations of readers.

CUT TO:

EXT. Port Beach - Night
The waters flow and then become still--A ghostly old man rises from the water, the ghost of a man named Tarvid (bearded, glasses, scientific looking bewildered in a half torn toga slowly floats toward the foreground where CGB as awaits

CGB: Aye, if it ain't Tarvid of the seven seas, my near slayer from days of yore. Why wasn't it you didn't kill me, again.

Tarvid: (booming voice) Captain, it was your bad attitude and insatiable drug habit I could NOT approve of-- but I guess you are the reason I am here,

CGB: What happened to your ship--The Fairbanks

Tarvid: You know you sold it to the bank of Mary Jane, I'm afraid.

CGB: Well, sit down and we'll chew on mandrake

Suddenly lights erupt in the sky.

Tarvid--Welll, war's a coming--I'm going to go watch The Dark Crystal with my villin' son Ryan on DVD.

CGB: Hang on, I've got Labyrinth Blu-Ray

Tarvid: God, how I miss the 21st Century--

CGB: Awe, it smells like Sulfur--

The ships up in distance explode into flames as the great ship FRYING DUTCHMAN rolls over the top of them turret guns blazing on all sides--

A giant beastly woman's hand lifts up the ship and sets it near dry land--the men aboard throw up their hats and cheer, it is Captain Morgan, S. Jerry and Admiral Nelson

Herb Farmer enters from behind CGB and points an electronic remote devices and clicks it at the ship--the ship's front hatch releases a long board and Herb

The crew bursts into song to the of "Imagine" by John Lennon a tune called "Long Live Greenbeard"

Greenbeard hobbles up the walkway to these lyrics--

Lyrics--Imagine there's no Greenbeard
It makes me want to cry
No smell below deck
In the mess hall, no meat pie--
Imagine he was wacked
On a pirate ship
Well, I would take a bullet
And why would
You have your own ship ships destroyed
If you needed them to prove
You were innocent
Captain Greenbeard you may
say we're all dreamers
But we're all a little dazed
Pour rum on our graves and tell us of your ways.

Captain Greenbeard claps and
Herb takes out his ear plugs

Herb: Did you say something

Captain: I call for my pipe, bowl and three shots of rum

CUT TO:

INT. Ship Vault--
CGB sits in a circle of candles facing a wall...

As he begins to light each candle, a treasure chest materializes with a naked mermaid topographically placed on the trunk's topside.

CGB: Hello, my emptiness

T Chest speaks

T-Chest: Fill 'er up captain.

CGB: I love talking to you, you know what's on my end. Then again, I have better conversations with you than humans.

T Chest: (interrupts) T.C.?
Oh you mean Toy Closet? Taffy Clock? T.C., T.C. oh....

CGB: Anyway, remind me in Seven years to tip every bouncer.

T. Chest: Just your presence is tip enough for me, captain.

CGB: Just because I voted liberal, your brain has stopped functioning?

T. Chest: That's funny, I don't care who you are? It's like I always used to tell the old prince of the ship...if you are hurtin for the curtain, come see Aaron because he's carin'

CUT TO

INT. Treasure Room in Ship
in a large square room is a large poster of a hookah with 12 different hoses and in bold letters are the words: "Kama Sutra" CGB enters--

CGB: (he chuckles) Awe, if it ain't better than sex, or at least an enhancement for the act, God has it really been 33 years since my last blow job?

He walks over to a safe and the digital combination awaits...He looks around for his notepad and the ship rocks a little, causing him to stumble and his papers blow everywhere.

CGB: Damn, if I haven't lost the combination again.

He goes to the keypad and types in a number and immediately a soft voice replies...

S.V.:
"Access Denied"

CGB: Blast you for a worthless machine.

The door opens and who is inside but Herb Farmer counting a big wad of cash.

CGB: How the fuck did you get in.

Herb: I don't remember ever leaving. Anyway, I'm going to save this money for the tea tax...

CGB: That's absurd. Who on this ship drinks tea?

Herb: Well, me for starters...Plus captain Hubbard on board the good ship Diane is cleansing his crew of their PCP habit.

CGB: Well, fine, but don't use all the Ginseng or Honeysuckle Root this time. And tell his shipmates to stop staring at each other in the sweat locker, it gives me the creeps. Oh, and have you seen me bottle of absinthe, it's been stressing me out all day and night.

Herb: Well, apart from what was confiscated by the Pirates of Penzance's last Pondscum--I'd say all you have left is your vial--and here's your note for the combination to this safe...

CGB: Aye keep it, I'll have a smoke as I wait for the Treasure Chest to get lunked down here--That thing is heavier than a hairless testicle. I'm not even sure if it is made of wood.

Herb: Sir, how is your back?

CGB: Aye, as much as I don't want to complain it feels splintered every time I slouch...

Cut to:

Int. Stairwell-Later

Captain Morgan the Eccentric, and Sailor Jerry the Eurocentric haul the chest of drugs down the long stairwell while Admiral Nelson the Ego-Centric follows them with a lit candelabra. From out the window a crescent Blue Moon peers in, but barely lights the room.

A.N.--Hey guys...guys...

I just realized I haven't taken my medicine yet. (I can't even read the label of this (r-y)(x+1) nonsense)

SJ: (sets down the chest on a step) What kind of junk those pesky doctors have you on?

AN: Hey, they're good doctors, one puts me to sleep and the other wakes me up.

SJ: Is that why you're sleepy until the afternoon.

CM: Would you two give it a rest and help me get the chest downstairs?

The Treasure Speaks

T.C.: I don't know, you know how stupid Admiral Nelson is without his pills.

CM: He's not stupid and he always gets blamed for shit when he talks--of course, I'm not so sure that some things are not his fault.

AN: Oh yeah, I just remembered, I already took twice the dosage I was supposed to

SJ: Just hold the candle please.

CUT TO

Int. Treasure Room--

CGB is totally in the midst of a large cloud of smoke, laughing his ass off while listening to Madonna's Like a Prayer on an iPod dock.

CGB: (to himself) God, I hope we get this ship ashore to see the Queen of Heaven, Madonna, before her next tour...

AM, CM and SJ are heard clunking the chest down the hall offscreen quarreling

CGB perks his ear and holds a hollowed out ram horn to his ear

AM: (whispering) Is Greenbeard the only one who has a key to this thing.

CM: (also in a soft voice)

Actually, I had a copy made

SJ:)loud) You've gotta be..

AM and CM: sh...

SJ (softer) You gotta be shittin' me, what if the Cap'n finds out

They enter the room and CGB laughs at them

CGB: I just heard everything you guys just said. Sailor Jerry, don't judge CM for his urinal tract disorder, you cursing judgmental...

A.M: You mean, you aren't upset about the key?

C.M. and S.j. are wide-eyed in terror.

CGB: Oh, what did I do with that blasted thing?

CM coughs and drops his spare key and then kneels to pick it up.

CM: Oh, look, here it is.

CGB: No, (reaches into shirt pocket) here it is. I think that is the key to the shitter, which by the way, you three get to clean and trust me, it's been unclean for seven years!

CUT TO:

subtitle: SCENE XXXIII--

EXT. Frontal Ship Galley--Early Next Morning

CGB stares of into the scenic sunrise as multicolored tonal hues spray photon rays toward the ship.

CGB's daughter (blonde)(12) (sweet looks) brings CGB a pack of cigarette/cigar (cigarillos) combinations and suddenly a red and green parrot
swoops in and lands on CGB's shoulder...

Daughter: Good morning Tom the Trashmouth, how are you feeling today?

Tom: (squawking) Don't smoke! Don't fucking smoke! Don't motherfucking smoke...

The daughter laughs and leaves.

CGB lights up a cigarillo and blows it right into the parrot's face!

CUT TO

INT. Ship Basement Stairwell--Morning

CGB tromps up the stairs bakes out of his mind whistling along to the tune of Dido's "White Flag"

CUT TO

Ext. Ship's Bow--

CGB enters frame left still humming to Dido and he grasps a notebook next to the ship's steering wheel--his parrot goes
nuts with swearing.

Parrot: Put down thine fucking notebook, dick muncher, it is time to get this bitch out to sea.

CGB: Aye, but I haven't finished me metaphysics paper...For Dr. Willard's class.

Parrot: Fuck you and fuck Dr. Willard...

CGB: That's no way to speak to my old time professor

Parrot: Good fuckin' point...Good motherfuckin' point...

CGB tears a parrot feather off of his bird and dips it in an ink blotter.

INSERT Close-Up

He writes:
Captain's Blog...Date July 6th. 213 A.D.C. The ship needs work but the men are too drunk to fix it--The good news is that they never
get seasick when they're plastered, they are too busy dealing with alcohol poisoning...

CUT TO

INT. AUCTION HOUSE--Flashback

CGB sits among a crowd of ugly old ladies that are all turned on sexually by his presence. His VO is heard in this flashback, as though he is reading his journal outloud.

CGB Voice Over (V.O.): I sat in a sea of biddies, too old and all married, stirring up their juices without wanting to--although some of them looked delectable--in those days I nearly puked at thought---And that's when me ship
the true Mrs. in me life came up for grabs--

The auctioneer enters and steps up to a microphone, which erupts in feedback until he taps it and speaks...

Auctioneer: (mumbling)

Do I hear $60? $60?

CGB pulls out an overstuffed wallet and his notes fall out onto the ground, as he angrily picks up everything up--a nice looking blonde woman walks by in a hot silk gown and waiter boots--he is distracted by her beauty
and he paper cuts himself on his ID

Close-Up

Insert: ID--a bit of blood trickles across the card which reads--

SMOKERS for SIMCITY FANCLUB

The cut finger flips the card to the back side and it reads

'Trade in for a Free Screening of E. Otter's Band FanClub...Offer expires in 212 A.D.C.'

CGB coughs and perspires

CUT BACK TO

INT. AUCTION--FLASHBACK

CGB sucks on his cut finger while the auctioneer continues...

Auctioneer: Do I hear $5? $2, could I pay someone to take this gol'dern ship?

The beautiful girl walks by CGB and he whispers.

CGB: Is that you Amanda?

She smiles and leaves

He waves his arm to her and the auctioneer laughs

Auctioneer: Aha! We have a taker--$60 cash and a fixer upper ship--be careful though, the ship is beyond cursed.

CUT TO (Fade In from flashback)

EXT. Still Waters--Later Day

The hot sun beats down on a young man--Dr. Lund--an oceanographer--who is on a deteriorating raft with a small briefcase full of papers.

Dr. Lund: God, I no longer believe in you--you have forsaken me.

At that moment the sun sends out a light beam and a wind blows the raft quickly to shore--passing by the good ship F.D.

CUT TO

EXT. F.D. Ship's Bow--That Moment

CGB puts on sunglasses and ties a rope to the steering wheel steering with his foot, laying back on a rocking chair..

pan across ship to back where holding onto a rope is Captain Morgan smoothly water-skiing behind the ship--he is yelling, "Go faster," but no one can hear him.

CUT TO

Int. Ship's Galley--Later Day

A portion of the galley is submerged and Herb Farmer looks through the glass windows that fish swim past.

Herb Farmer's Voice over is heard...

HF VO: The waters appear peaceful not that Captain Greenbeard has beaten his alcoholism by continual drinking -- his smoking habit only went away when he slew the white whale--

Flashback to

INT. BELLY OF A WHALE--Later Day

CGB torches up a massive fat blunt of marijuana content while sitting in a large pile of fish guts and bile--

CGB: Wow, it looks like a sushi shop in here--

CUT TO: EXT/INT--BELOW THE OCEAN

The large WHITE WHALE passes out and goes into a deep slumber

FLASHBACK OVER

Fade to a slow dissolve up on

Int. Ship's Galley/Gallery--DAY

Herb Farmer marches down the hall, creeps into the room doorway, into the painting gallery where cell animation drawings
crowd out a solitary Monet looking pond with Lilly Pads. CGB smokes a cigarillo while staring at the images of Pinocchio on the left and Space Ghost on the right. The camera
centers him while hw chokes back a tear...

CGB: Don't worry my precious artworks, when I gave you up for drugs, I sinned--but now you are back in my life for good!

(At this point the screenplay goes back under construction...)

TO BE CONTINUED...eventually...

---

SAFE PASSAGE--eccentric, Eurocentric, eco-centric

(Progress Report)

a. I finished watching 99 3/4 of the Village Voice Top 100 Films
b. I now hold, in my possession, a screenplay of God knows how much money it is really worth, because I acquired it for free, and will go into production next year...it is written by my old friend Matt Klickstein, a major screenwriter and old-time collaborator
c. I re-worked an old film that I was the cinematographer on, featuring the actual 'cinematographic apparatus' of ROBERT FLAHERTY'S original NANOOK OF THE NORTH...check out my blogs for further confusion...
d. Had an awesome time with a famous actress on a strange date (weeks ago)...never gonna forget that...
e. in conclusion part one of the ROCK-DOC is in the can!

It is like the world hurt being conquered by the world spirit, old Hegel style...

What to do for others in this world to achieve friendship and respect:
1. Turn some coin to give them gifts...
2. Celebrate their well deserved fame...
3. Transfer your power to theirs, through verbal transmission...
4. Defeat the corruption that 'lurks' around their 'modes of representation'...

Two or Three things I'll never forget...(in lieu of these recreational tips)

A. An old, powerful sage came to me in the darkness (we'll call him, St. Francis, just for fun), and reminded me (as cleverly noted)
that there, "yes, Aaron, there must always be a GRAND INQUISITOR..." (*see also Dostoevsky's BROTHERS KARAMAZOV")
B. If you were wondering who was featured as a strange KILLER CONDOM in an unusual "costume party" at the AMERICAN FILM MARKET, years back,
it was a SHELEY in DiSGUISE! (well, such were the days of grooving with the TROMETTES...a TROMA thing...)
C. The last time this author mitigated a restoration stunt, THE OUTSIDERS gained 22 minutes of lost footage...and I totally got away with it!

PART FOUR
THE DREAM GAZER AND THE SOMNAMBULIST

At evening time in the woods, two men are sitting together on a bench near a
tree—a young man and an old man.

The old man speaks, “Spirits are all around us—they drive me mad.”

The two men do not notice a figure approaching from behind.

Then, the young man sees the approaching figure.

It is a woman in a robe.

Thus, the young man keeps looking at the woman.

The figure of the robed woman lifts her arms, raising her hands and passes by.
Now both men watch her as she continues to walk out of their range of view.

The young man turns to the old man and says, “That is my fiancé.”

So, the two men look off into the distance, approximately where the woman would
be, if they could see her.

Deeper in the woods, the white-robed woman faces forward. Ominously she makes
her way through the trees and brush.

Back in the original spot, the young man is noticeably in formal attire, while
the old is not so dressed up. The older man stares now at the young, while
listening to him speak. “We’ve experienced much stranger events than what you
have,” says the young man. He turns his head to face the older man, continuing,
“I will tell you all about it.”

Farther away, the woman walks through a web of woods.

On the bench, the young man raises his hand and says to the old, “I was born in
a little town—“

A different day, a town rests on a hillside—houses are built all over the hill
right next to each other. There is a large cathedral atop the hill—some houses
are bigger than others.

A ways down the path from the hill town, fanfare music is audible, and there a
sloped building with a flag is visible.

The young man continues his narration of the events to the old man. They both
act frightened as the younger says, “There he is!”

In the midst of the different day, emerging from a staircase near to the sloped
building is a strange old man (quite different than the old man on the bench).
The strange old man wears a large top hat with tufts of hear sticking out,
adjusts his glasses, and walks with a cane—he hobbles around the top of the
outdoor staircase. He grimaces, revealing contorted facial wrinkles.

So the young narrator in the woods speaks to the older man, who is becoming more
interested in the story. “I have a friend in town named Alan,” says the
narrator.

Inside of a small house, a nice looking man named Alan, age 25, stands at a
desk, next to a lamp, while reading. He walks with his open book over to a chair
that he leans against.

Alan leans on the chair with one hand, reading his textbook with the other. He
is deep into the literature. He glances backwards for a moment, and then returns
his look to the text, moving his head to signify reading. He looks up
distractedly and then to his right and again behind.

He closes his book and looks to the window nearest to his desk. He walks back
over to the desk setting his book down and continues to the window.

Leaning up against the window sill, he peers out, shifting around and turns with
a strange grin on his face.

Alan returns to his desk from the window, clasps his hands, heads toward a hat
rack on the right, takes his hat in hand and exits to the left.

Moments later on a sidewalk in the midst of the town, right outside of Alan’s
house, people gather and disperse. Alan is wearing his hat as he walks out of
his house, and a townsperson trades him a newspaper for pocket change. He opens
the paper and begins to read.

“Extra! Extra! Fair in Town! Exhibits of Every Kind! All New!”

Alan rushes across the town square with his paper.
Inside a different small house, similar to Alan’s, but with a desk on the
opposite side of the room and a large table, is Francis, a man of the age of 30
years. He is seated at his desk, reading, when Alan bursts into the room from
the door. Alan cannot wait to show Francis the news. Francis stands to read
about the fair, as Alan hands him the paper.

Alan says to Francis, “We have got to go to this fair! It’s the first time in a
long time.” Alan twists Francis’ arm in jest, both men smiling.

Inside a large hallway, during the day, a couple of men walk down the hall and
turn a corner. Another lady walks by them around the same corner. As they clear
out, who should emerge from a shadowy background but the strange old man, who
walks slowly with his cane. As he limps down the hall, a town official of sorts
meets up with him. The strange old man bows and tips his irregularly large top
hat. The official returns the bow, yet blocks a path to the door, saying, “I
wouldn’t go in. The town clerk is in a horrible mood today.” The strange old man
removes a business card from his cloak and hands it to the official who reads
it.

The card has only two words, “Dr. Caligari”

So, the official pockets the card and leads Caligari into the room.

Inside the clerk’s office, in the background, are two large shelves stacked high
with books. In the foreground is a very high table with a clerk seated at a
desk, chatting with another official. Entering from the hallway, is the first
official, who hands over the business card to the clerk and exits. Next,
Caligari enters and bows to the clerk. The clerk snarls at him, “Wait your turn
old man!” Caligari sits across from the desk to wait.

In fact, Caligari sits clutching his cane. He quickly looks up and then back
down.

As Caligari remains looking down, the clerk finishes with the man that came to
see him first. As the patron resolves his concern, he exits, while the clerk
flips through his large book, taking notes. Caligari gets up from his seat and
crosses to the desk. The clerk sees him and scolds, “I said wait your turn!”
Caligari returns to the other side of the room and sits.

Caligari fondles his cane and turns his head to the side.

The clerk gathers up a stack of papers and descends from his oversized chair.

Caligari’s head snaps to see the clerk. A malicious smile overwhelms his face as
he rotates his cane.

The clerk approaches Caligari, who stands and chokes out these words, “I wish to
apply for a permit to present my exhibit at the fair…” The clerk, being taller,
bends down and asks, “What kind of exhibit?” Caligari raises his cane, looks up
at the clerk and says, “A somnambulist!” The clerk chuckles and waves for a
different clerk at a background desk to come forward. The clerk exits the room,
leaving the problem to the new clerk. He steps forward and summons Caligari to
his desk. Caligari approaches.

Whether or not the following spectacle is a fair by definition, it is at least a
carnival. The hustle and bustle at the fairgrounds take place in front of the
town on the hill. A Ferris Wheel and a carousel attract various patrons that
enter to look upon the engagement their town rarely witnesses. A married couple
enter the fairgrounds and they make their way to a booth occupied by a ticket
seller. The husband shells out some cash to the ticket seller and off goes the
married couple. Several other patrons follow suit. The ticket seller collects
the money and puts it in his register. Stalking into the space is none other
than Caligari. Approaching the ticket booth, he stops and looks behind him, then
continues his sinister gait. Again, he stops and looks back at a few of the
rides, while the patrons continue to pay the entrance fee. A dwarf pays to get
in and Caligari leers at the man. Caligari approaches the fast moving rides,
grasping onto a rail to descend into the fair.

Further into the fairground, many tents are set up and many people browse from
tent to tent. A young child points at a tent to bring it to attention to his
father. They enter. People continue in a semi-orderly fashion wandering around
the grounds.

From out of a tent Caligari comes forth with a large easel that has a rolled up
sign. He glares around and then begins to ring a large bell that he holds with
his other hand.

People gather around Caligari’s tent, and the strange old man waves a wand
through the air shouting unintelligibly. He unrolls his sign on the easel to
reveal a sketch of a long, tall, and gaunt figure of a ghostly looking man
dressed in black tight clothing. Caligari bellows out with a crackling voice,
“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen. Here for the very first time anywhere you
can see Cesare the Somnambulist.” He waves his wand over the picture and the
crowd becomes intrigued.

A few hours later that same night, in a small house, policemen stand around a
bed where the corpse of the town clerk lies, freshly dead, as the body still
bleeds. An officer explains, “He was killed by a stab wound to the side, by a
kind of pointed instrument.” The chief of police looks around the small room for
evidence, occasionally glancing out the window.

Meanwhile, back at the fair, during the night of the murder, Alan and Francis
enter the grounds and walk among the other patrons, until they are at the center
of attractions.

At Caligari’s tent, a crowd is gathered to gawk at the sketched portrait, where
the exhibitor continues to ring his bell to announce. He musters his loudest,
grainy voice, “Step right into the tent. Here for the first time ever you can
see Cesare, the 23 year old Somnambulist! Yes, it’s the miraculous Cesare who
has slept day and night for 23 years without interruption! Before your very
eyes, Cesare will awaken from his death-like sleep. Step right in…” Grasping the
poster, Caligari points his cane at the drawing of the gaunt, ghostly figure. He
places the picture on the upright easel and opens the flap of the tent, making
gestures toward the inside with his cane. One by one, the curious patrons enter,
filing into the tent, ducking under the low entrance.

In the fairgrounds, amongst a diverse crowd of adult and children, Alan and
Francis turn to each other after noticing the outright gawking of the nearby
Caligari exhibit. They too follow suit and file in with the slow moving line.

In Caligari’s tent there is a small theater with stadium seats on both sides,
packed with customers. A curtain hides the main attraction. From behind the
proscenium’s curtain emerges Caligari, waving his bell that resounds with an
echo. Once the rest of the patrons are seated and the stadium is full, Caligari
removes his top hat and doffs it at the crowds, his nearly bald head with tufts
of hair glistening in the spotlight. He puts his hat back on and points his cane
at the curtain. Finally, he pushes a side of the curtain and an automatic rope
on a pulley device opens up to a large jagged edged cabinet, twice the size of
Caligari.

The doors to the cabinet are closed. Caligari grabs a wand from the top of the
cabinet and waves the thing at the cabinet. He has a sinister grin while sliding
open each side of the cabinet, revealing Cesare at last, who much like his
stenciled portrait is tall, pale, all in black and sporting fluffy black hair.
Cesare’s eyes are closed with abnormally dark rings under them. Caligari waves
his wand at Cesare who appears to be in a death-like paralysis.

Caligari has a mischievous expression matching it with a frightening grimace.

He stands next to his display.

His expression is all the more menacing.

Holding his cane near Cesare, Caligari begins to chant in his gravelly voice,
“Cesare! Do you hear me? Cesare, I am calling you. I Dr. Caligari…your master!
Awake for a moment from your dark night…” Caligari’s arm is stretched out across
Cesare’s mid-section.

Cesare’s eyes remain heavily closed at first, but after a moment, his eyebrows
begin to flutter and his closed mouth begins to slightly twitch. His eyes blink
subtly and his dilated pupils are barely seen from under his eyelids. One
eyebrow raises and his eyes continue to creep open, the bags of dark tiredness
under them are all the more accentuated. Finally, Cesare opens his eyes wise as
though in a hypnotic shock and his eyebrows raise as far as they go.

Caligari is now frozen next to Cesare, who lifts his arms halfway forward and
takes a few steps forward. Caligari reels from a fear of his own, as he watches
his subject come to life. Cesare stops after a few steps and lowers his arms.
Caligari steps forward and waves his cane in front of the live specimen.

Sitting in the front row, Alan and Francis look on with awe and wonder
whispering to each other.

Caligari waves his cane.

He doffs his top hat and bows to the crowd, saying, “Ladies and Gentlemen!
Cesare the Somnambulist will answer all your questions. Cesare knows every
secret…he knows the past and sees the future…Judge for yourselves.” Caligari
shifts around in his hunched over gait awaiting a query from the audience.

Alan and Francis look at each other and then to the stage.

Though Francis tries to hold him back, Alan pushes through to the stage and
approaches Cesare.

Alan inquires faithfully, “How long do I have to live?”

He awaits an answer.

Cesare glares at Alan and in a murmuring echo of a deep voice explains, “You
have until dawn, tomorrow.”

Alan is shocked by the horrifying prophesy. He breathes heavily in fear and then
a smile crosses his face.

Francis seems bewildered by the prediction.

As the crowd becomes restless, Francis takes hold of the mesmerized Alan’s arm
and they retreat from the stage, walking past the seated crowd and out of the
tent.

It is night on a town street. A shadowy figure of a man lingers in an alleyway.
A staircase leads away from the fair. The street is dark until an old woman
enters the scene and raises her staff to turn on a lamp post. Alan and Francis
appear on the staircase, heading home, when a newspaper stand catches their eye.


Francis and Alan read the headline in horror, which reads in large print:
“MURDER IN TOWN!” Already afraid from earlier events, looks of dread are
immanent on both of their faces.

Retreating from the newsstand, the two men meet with a lovely dressed up woman
and shake her hand.

The woman in the middle of the two men, takes both of them by the hands
cordially, as they are already acquainted.

The nice looking, nice dressed woman has Alan and Francis now arm in arm, who
escort her across the street and around a corner.

Now the two men and the woman continue along the empty street (alleyways and
building windows in the background.) They continue until they are quite out of
any vantage point.

At Caligari’s secret shack in the town, the strange old man emerges from out of
a large crooked door, hunched over and glancing from side to side before
exiting. His door swings open and he steps all of the way out, closing the door
behind him. He hobbles to the edge of his fence and checks out the side of his
house. Quickly he snaps his head around over his shoulder to watch for
onlookers, then goes to the other side of his house, as if he might have an
unwelcome spy. No one there. He goes back to the front of his house and finding
no one in sight. He reenters his leaning door and slams it behind him.

Alan and Francis enter the scene of another empty street, no longer with their
female companion. They walk slowly from the exhaustion of the day. They approach
the door of Francis’ house.

Francis turns to Alan and explains, “The problem is Alan, that we’re both in
love with the same woman.” Alan smiles and nods his head agreeing. Francis
continues, “I guess that means we’ll have to leave it up to her. But whatever
the outcome, we will always be friends.” Alan congenially shakes Francis’ hand.

Still shaking hands, Francis gives Alan a firm grip and then let’s go to enter
his modest housing. Alan walks away.

Midnight.

Inside Alan’s bedroom, he sleeps in his bed and immediately a large shadow
ascends over him and on to the back of his room’s wall in silhouette. Alan
awakens in fright and terror from the oncoming menace. He waves his arms in
horror.

His arms thrash about.

Alan covers his mouth to keep from screaming, while he writhes at the intensity
of his fear.

Shadows on the back wall reveal Alan’s attempt to push away the approaching
figure. The shadows picture is of a figure of a killer that grasps one of Alan’s
hands and lifts a long sharp knife in the other, stabbing down on Alan, as he
struggles. The killer pulls out the knife from Alan’s flesh and it drips with
blood.

In the morning, a woman exits her house and walks toward Francis’ house.

That same moment, Francis adjusts his tie in front of a mirror and is
interrupted by the woman from the nearby house. She runs to him screaming,
“Francis! Francis! Alan is dead! Murdered!” Francis locks up in fear and turns
away from the woman aghast at the news. The woman holds her head weeping.
Francis, facing away from the woman, transitions to an evil demeanor, grinning
wickedly. Then he returns to his look of surprise and turns to the woman.

Later in Alan’s bedroom, the woman and Francis enter and look at a bloodied
corpse, causing Francis to drop his hat. The woman looks away in tears. Francis
nearly faints at the sight, grappling a bedpost to break his fall. His face
casts an ambiguous expression of both guilt and innocence. The woman sits down
on a bench, crying. Francis’ eyes widen and he utters aloud, “The prophecy of
the Somnambulist!”

That same morning, Francis rushes up a twisty stairwell in a structure owned by
law enforcement agents.

The structure is the police headquarters, where, up the stairs, two policemen
sit at opposite sides of a square desk, which is in the middle of the room. They
fill out their paperwork. Francis rushes in to interrupt them, and they stand.

The cops listen to Francis who tries to collect his thoughts, but is able only
to stammer, “Stabbed…he was stabbed.” Francis makes a stabbing motion. He
becomes coherent and states, “I won’t rest until I solve these horrible crimes!”


One of the cops exits the room to retrieve his boss, the sheriff, who quickly
enters the scene with him. Francis, almost as though hypnotized, takes two small
steps forward as the police discuss the matter that has been brought to their
attention.

Afterwards, Francis slowly descends the stairwell, stopping just once, and then
continuing forward. When he reaches the bottom, he wipes the sweat from his head
and covers his eyes with his arm. He exits the building.

In a nice house in the town village, the object of affection sits outside her
house and stands to greet the distraught Francis to find out what is the matter.
She takes him by the arm so that he doesn’t fall over. She looks him in the
eyes. This act causes Francis to look away, while he speaks quietly, “Alan was
murdered last night.” The woman pushes him away screaming and he takes a seat
outside her door. She nearly panics and asks, “How was he killed?” “Stabbed,”
replies Francis. She becomes all the more scared, holding herself to prevent her
body from shaking. Francis explains, “Let’s go inside, we need to talk.”

Moments later, Francis and his dream girl that is named Jane, enter a room with
a large wraparound couch and a table with a huge bouquet of flowers ser upon it.
Jane walks behind the flowers and raises a hand for Francis to wait for a
moment; she sulks, walking out of the room. Francis looks around and before too
long the woman’s father, Dr. Olsen, enters, nicely dressed and glasses perched
on his nose.

In the background are painted archways. Francis begins to tell the Dr. Olsen the
goings on in the town. Dr. Olsen assures, “I will get the police’s permission to
question the somnambulist.”

Later, near the town street, a strange looking peasant edges along an alleyway,
ducking under windows to remain in hiding. He looks to see if anyone can see him
and continues along. Very shifty, he sneaks around a corner and bursts into an
alleyway door, leading to an apartment.

About an hour later, a woman screams out of her apartment window, “Murder! Help!
Murder!”

The peasant makes tracks from the apartment door shadow, and immediately
townspeople burst out of their homes to chase him. (He carries a bloody knife.)

The townspeople mob the convict, preventing him from escape. He struggles, but
they disarm his knife and wrestle him into submission, forcing him to come with
them. The townspeople exit, dragging along the guilty killer.

Back at Caligari’s shack, the strange old man stirs up a bowl of raw meat and
opens up his cabinet, turned casket (vertical at the fair, now lying
horizontal). Cesare sleeps inside and Caligari lifts him up by the shoulders
causing him (still asleep) to sit upright. Caligari shovels up a scoop of meat
and force feeds Cesare, who is able to take large bites while sleeping. Caligari
continues to feed him.

Francis and the elderly father arrive outside at the crooked door, peering
through the window. Francis knocks.

Inside, Caligari is startled by the knocking, hurriedly setting down the bowl of
meat. He shoves Cesare back into the cabinet, closing the lid. Caligari goes to
his door and peeks out through a crack.

Outside again, Francis knocks and a responsive Caligari opens up, scowling at
Francis. Caligari makes his way outside and closes the door.

Standing on both sides of him are the men. Dr. Olsen shows his warrant to
Caligari, who acts bewildered by their very presence. Caligari shrugs (with
white gloves now noticeable). He allows the men entrance to his shack, pointing
at the door, muttering, “Be my guest.” Dr. Olsen swings the door open and enters
without hesitation. Francis and Caligari follow him in.

Back at the Police Headquarters, an angry mob drags the culprit up the windy
staircase, holding tight to him to prevent him from fleeing.

In the office, the police are seated around their large desk, standing when the
mob enters the room with the peasant. They all point fingers at him and explain
that he is a killer.

The faces of the angry mob light up, as their loud voices drown out each other’s
words, while accusing the peasant of murder.

The killer appears devious, hardly afraid of his position, grinning at the
police.

The leader of the mob hands the sheriff the murder weapon, who stares angrily at
the killer, ordering his officers to take the perpetrator away. The mob,
satisfied with that justice is served, retreat from the room, leaving the
sheriff holding the knife, with a scathing expression on his face.

Francis and his lady’s father are still at Caligari’s shack, standing over the
open cabinet, where Cesare is seated upright. Caligari watches all three of them
from the other side of the room, out of the corner of his eye. Dr. Olsen cannot
wake Cesare and he looks to Caligari.

Caligari snarls while turning his head to see the two men. He takes a breath,
turning his head back to its first position.

Dr. Olsen is frustrated with Cesare and exclaims to Caligari, “Wake him up!” At
the same time that Caligari refuses, a man with a telegram enters the shack.

Moments later, outside the shack, Francis reads the telegram, while Dr. Olsen is
exiting.

It reads, “Riddle of Our Town Solved! The double murderer is caught in his third
attempt.”

Caligari swings open his door, snickering at the two men that are reading the
notice. They both hurry off the premises and Caligari removes his hat to bow at
them in jest. He cackles maliciously. Putting his hat back on, he reenters his
crooked shack, through his crooked door.

Later at Jane’s house, she is home, seated on the couch and does her best to
read a novel, but is too worried about her father to concentrate. She looks over
her shoulder, then back at the book. She closes it and sets it on her table,
standing with increasing worries.

Around the same time, Francis and the girl’s father are among the policemen that
question the man held for the murder charges. The suspect looks away from them
all.

Francis has a distraught appearance on his face.

Everyone in the room stare at the suspect.

The suspect’s eyes shift to the side and he begins to speak, “It’s true that I
tried to kill the old woman…” He takes a nervous swallow.

Francis and the girl’s father angrily await the suspect’s confession.

Thus, he continues, “And I thought they would blame the mysterious murderer
again…But I swear I had nothing to do with the two other murders, so help me
God.” The would-be killer inhales and exhales deeply, with wracked nerves.

All in the room are in disbelief.

Francis and Dr. Olsen stare at the suspect with confused expressions.

As mentioned, the men in the room know not what to believe.

Another day goes by, and Jane finds herself at the fairgrounds, in elegant
dress. She descends the stairs that lead to the fair, looking back for a moment,
then continuing.

On the midway, Jane walks by the tents to the right and left of her, peering in
as she passes by. She arrives at Caligari’s tent with Cesare’s painting outside.
Slowly, she makes her way to the tent.

Caligari throws open the tent flaps and looks out with a bitter smile. He sees
the girl.

The young woman is alarmed at Caligari’s sudden appearance.

Her eyes are wide with fear.

Caligari leans to listen to what is on the girl’s mind. She says, “I thought I
might find my father, Dr. Olsen, here.” Caligari’s grin stretches from ear to
ear and he shakes his head, “no.”

He continues smiling, rolls his eyes and closes them. Then he reopens his eyes
and stares at the girl.

In his signature way, Caligari removes his hat while bowing to Jane, pointing
out the way to the inside of the tent. The young woman is intrigued, and follows
the old doctor into the dark entrance.

In front of the now vertical cabinet, Caligari points his gloved finger and uses
it to push open the door to the cabinet to reveal Cesare in his deathlike,
hypnotized, paralysis. Jane looks upon Cesare with wonder.

Caligari leers at Cesare.

The woman is taken aback by the creepy couple. Nonetheless, Caligari waves a
wand and Cesare begins to move his head. Jane backs up in fear and Cesare, eyes
still closed, follows her movement with his head. Jane screams and runs out of
the tent, Cesare’s head still following her. Caligari lets out his trademark
cackle.

Outside of a gothic cathedral, Francis, Dr. Olsen and Jane exit a church out of
a large gate that has a cross on top. They have just been to Alan’s funeral.
They walk along the church courtyard.

That night, at the fairgrounds, Francis stealthily sneaks along the midway,
running from tent to tent for cover. At last, he reaches Caligari’s tent (oddly
the poster of Cesare is missing) and he crawls on all fours to the tent door
flap to peer in. Finding it too dark, he gets up and turns around, sneaking
around the tents to leave without being noticed.

Francis’ curiousness leads him back around to Caligari’s shack, hiding from the
old man, by ducking under the window.

Francis raises his head to take a peek into the shack.

Inside, Caligari sleeps upright on his chair and Cesare is apparently horizontal
in his cabinet. (At least, it looks like Cesare.)

Meanwhile, in Jane’s bedroom, the young woman sleeps on her large mattress, with
the shades half drawn in the background.

Outside of her house, that same night, Cesare, from out of nowhere, stalks along
the edge of the house’s wall, almost like a moving shadow with the usual pale
face. Cesare keeps an arm raised to flatten his body against the wall as much as
he can. With eyes closed, he reaches the front door and takes a step up onto the
front porch. Very slowly, he enters.

The girl is still asleep in her room. In the background, Cesare’s head is seen
at the porch window.

Cesare rises even further, staring in through the window. Now standing, he is
noticeably wielding an oversized knife. He throws open the window and cautiously
steps into the room.

Now inside the room, Cesare sleep walks in his trance ever so slowly toward the
sleeping beauty (he walks with one foot in front of the other in a straight
line.) His eyes open as he stands in front of her.

Cesare grapples the knife and slowly lifts it above his head.

He raises the knife all the way above Jane in a killer’s stance, frozen in
position.

By the looks of Cesare’s face, he seems to have no control over himself and
gains a look of odd peacefulness, dropping the knife.

Cesare slowly reaches down to touch the slumbering dream girl and she awakens
upon his hand touching her head. She screams and struggles as Cesare wrestles to
hold her back.

Cesare grabs hold of Jane’s head and pulls it toward his, smiling a toothy grin,
appearing from under his black lipstick.

Cesare holds the girl by the neck, as she continues to gasp for her freedom.

Cesare jostles her into submission. He throws an arm around her neck and she
slithers out of reach for a moment.

Cesare regains his hold, now around her wrist and she continues to fight him
off. She finally lets out a blood-curdling scream.

In a dark corner of the house, two side by side beds are occupied by a butler
and a house servant, but not for long, as the scream awakens and alerts them to
action.

Cesare now carries the young woman by her upper body, as she thrashes around to
escape. He carries her to the open window.

The butler and the house servant make their way out of their room to find out
what is going on.

The gathering of the house occupants burst into Jane’s room from a background
door, rushing to the bed, only the girl is gone. Dr. Olsen flings himself
forward onto the bed with folded hands, shouting in terror. Dr. Olsen notices
the window is all busted up. He runs over to it.

The butler and the frantic Dr. Olsen examine the window.

Moments later, Cesare carries the passed out dream girl along the edge of a
jagged rooftop, ascending to the building’s highest point. Cesare has no problem
carrying the girl in one arm. As he reaches the top, he looks behind him, then
back at the ledge where he has climbed. With nowhere left to go, he descends
again.

Oddly enough, at present Caligari continues to sleep and it also appears as
though Cesare is asleep in the cabinet.

Outside the shack, Francis continues to spy on the two untrustworthy sorts.

Through some mystery, Cesare is back on the ground and he carries Jane around a
corner, down a pathway. Not long after they are gone, the servants and Dr. Olsen
spot the villain and engage in hot pursuit.

A small, arched bridge hangs over trees and a brook. Cesare carries Jane over
the bridge carefully, watching both where he steps and behind him for followers.
After he makes it down the front arch of the bridge, he runs out of energy and
falls to his knees, letting the girl go onto the ground. Simultaneously, the
house servants race across the bridge to pick up the girl. By then, Cesare has
made his escape. Dr. Olsen and the butler carry Jane together. After a few
minutes, a mob of angry townspeople continue the chase of Cesare, as they were
made aware of the crime with short notice. Word gets around fast in a small
town. The mob passes by Dr. Olsen and his servants, as they take the girl back
over the bridge in the other direction.

Along a narrow forest path, Cesare shoves his way through a wall of trees,
stopping at the top of a small hill and suddenly he goes completely limp and
passes out, falling onto his back.

At Caligari’s window, Francis feels that he has served his watch for the
evening.

Crouching under the window, Francis leaves the shack behind.

Awhile later, Francis enters Jane’s living room, to witness the girl passed out,
with her father leaned over her, stroking her hair, while a maid stands by for
assistance. Francis quickly joins the girl’s side and sits beside her, clutching
her hand.

Francis now holds both of the girl’s hands and tries to awaken her from the
trauma. Dr. Olsen looks on, concerned. Finally, the girl begins to come to and
she sits up, opening her rolled back eyes, in a total expressionless daze.
Francis and Dr. Olsen watch her to see what she will do. She looks both ways and
then becomes completely afraid again in wide eyed terror, grasping onto her
gown. She screams out, “Cesare!” Francis smiles and shakes his head to assure
her, but her fear intensifies. Francis stands and motions for Dr. Olsen to
listen, “But, it couldn’t have been Cesare…I’ve been watching him for hours…He
was asleep in his box…er, cabinet.” Jane, still in trance-like delirium throws
her fists down, knowing it was Cesare. Francis dashes off and Dr. Olsen puts an
arm around his daughter.

Late at night, down at the police headquarters, the police are sitting at
opposite sides of the desk. Francis enters, and explains his confusion of the
night’s events. A policeman stands as Francis mutters in broken speech about the
crime. The police listen attentively as Francis puts a hand to his feverish
forehead. Francis inquires, “Is the prisoner safe in his cell?” One of the
policemen nods to affirm this and Francis looks to the other policeman who nods
as well. Francis has a look of shock. He breathes deep and explains, “I must see
him.” The policemen agree and escort Francis out of the room.

Down the long, windy staircase go the three men.

Francis has a policeman on both sides of him, traveling through the dark,
ominous hallway of the jail. Around a corner is the walled in holding cell of
the prisoner. Francis follows the police to the door.

Francis peers into the cell through an eyehole.

In the large, unusual cell, the prisoner sits, chained to an unmovable rock. The
cell window is out of reach. The prisoner puts his head down onto his chained
hands in shame.

Outside the cell, Francis looks at the officers, then away from them. He tells
them both to follow him.

At this point, nothing has changed with Caligari’s shack, as inside he sleeps
and so it seems does Cesare, in his cabinet.

Francis, accompanied by the sheriff, and the two other officers, reach the shack
and peer in.

Same story: the inhabitants of the shack are asleep.

The sheriff knocks on Caligari’s door to wake him. Without much time lapsing,
Caligari opens his door and steps outside. He looks a bit worried at the sight
of the police.

To him, this visitation is rude and uncalled for.

The sheriff insists on going inside the shack, yet Caligari attempts to shove
him off. The sheriff pushes Caligari away from the door and opens it all the way
to allow his officers into the shack.

Caligari has a look of shock and nervousness. He breathes deeply, in and out,
holding his chest. He swallows.

Returning from out of the shack are the police. The two regular officers carry
out the large cabinet, setting it on the ground.

As Caligari watches the scene, his fear increases. His eyes begin to shift from
side to side.

Francis looks on, as the sheriff reaches down and opens the cabinet. Sure
enough, it seems as though Cesare rests inside.

Something is not quite right with Cesare’s face, however.

Francis tugs on Cesare to wake him and finds that it is no person in the
cabinet. Cesare has been replaced by a dummy doll, stitched together to look
like him asleep. While the four men are busy paying all their attention only to
the dummy, Caligari takes off running. Francis drops the dummy and pursues the
strange old man.

Caligari hobbles at top speed up the side of a hill on a twisty path, keeping
Francis at bay, though not by much. Caligari continues to the other side of the
hill.

Caligari is frantic now, racing over an arched bridge, followed by Francis, who
is determined to catch up.

On a different hillside, Caligari nearly exhausts his efforts to stay ahead of
Francis.

Not far from the chase, is an archaic asylum—gated. Caligari rounds the corner,
onto the scene and pushes through the gate. Francis stops to check out what he
is entering into.

The sign on the gate explains that he is at the asylum, giving cause for
hesitation.

Presently in the asylum’s courtyard, three large staircases in the background,
lead to all the different rooms. Francis is accompanied by a keeper of the
grounds to about the middle of the courtyard. Then the keeper tells Francis to
wait for him to get a doctor. True to his word, the keeper retrieves a doctor
from up the right stairwell. The doctor goes to Francis.

Francis immediately questions the doctor, “Is there a patient here by the name
of Dr. Caligari?” The doctor’s eyes widen in fear and he shakes his head. From
down the middle stairwell arrives another doctor and the other brings him over
to Francis. When questioned of Caligari, the second doctor, distinguished by a
lab coat, shakes his head, as well. He explains, “The director returned just
today…perhaps you would like to speak to him personally.” Francis nods in
agreement and follows the second doctor up the middle stairwell.

Down the asylum’s main hallway, the doctor in the lab coat leads Francis past
the strange patterns of painted trees on the wall. They get to the end of the
hall. The doctor opens a large door, assuring, “You’ll find the asylum director
here!” Francis enters the room and the doctor closes the door behind him.

Inside the asylum’s study, a human skeleton is mounted on the wall. Large stacks
of books are ubiquitous. In the back of the room is a desk, where the notorious
Dr. Caligari is seated, studying, with a massive stack of books on each side.
Francis advances.

Caligari’s head is down, reading an open book and upon hearing Francis in the
room, the strange old man slowly lifts his head and squints his eyes.

Francis raises an arm and slams his fist down on the desk. Then, realizing only
the police can help him, he hurries to leave the room.

He barges out of the door and with a look of panic on his face, he takes large
strides down the hall.

He quickly rushes down the middle stairwell. He is still freaked out by the
situation—so much so that when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he collapses
into the side of a nearby leather chair. The resident doctors follow him down
the stairs and go to Francis, who hugs the side of the chair. The doctors pick
him up and set him in the chair.

The doctors stand around Francis who mumbles at them in fear, “He…that man is
Caligari…and he could be mistaken for no one else.” The doctors look at each
other inquisitively. They lower down to listen to Francis’ macabre tale of the
goings on in the town. One of the doctors immediately responds, “We’ll run a
full scale investigation of our director!”

Awhile later, in the large director’s quarters of the asylum, Caligari is
peacefully slumbering in bed.

At the back door of the asylum, out on the street, Francis walks around trees to
meet up with the doctor that believed his story. The doctor remarks, “He’s
asleep…” Then, he points down the road and summons Francis to follow him. They
both walk around the building down a small pathway.

Back in the hallway of the asylum, the doctors and Francis, once they have
reached the end of the hall, enter the door that leads to Caligari’s office.

Again in the study, a doctor switches on the light, and the men search the room
for proof of Francis’ story. Mainly, they search the books on the desk, until a
white bearded doctor comes up with an idea. He walks over to the skeleton and
shoves it aside.

Behind the skeleton is a cabinet and upon opening it, the doctor finds an
oversized pair of books, which he immediately opens.

Now at the desk, all the men stand close to observe the contents of the two
hidden books. Francis opens one of them.

The book’s title reads “Somnambulism— A Compendium of the University of
Hysala—Published in the Year 1726”

Francis, still wide-eyed, looks up at the doctors, knowing he has stumbled onto
the secrets of Caligari. The bearded doctor admits, “It’s his special field of
study!” Francis looks back down at the book carefully, taking it in as he flips
through page after page, absorbing the information.

Still, Caligari sleeps away in his large room.

In the study, Francis and the three doctors move in closely to read the
textbook.

The book, seen from up close, has worn pages. The text appears small so Francis
reads as his fingers skim the words:

”The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari: In the year 1703, a mystic by the name of Dr.
Caligari toured the fairgrounds of small towns of northern Italy accompanied by
a somnambulist named Cesare…”

The doctors are interested, as Francis diligently reads the textbook:

“…for months Caligari held one town after another in the grip of panic through a
series of murders committed under almost identical circumstances…”

Francis continues to read aloud:

“He had completely enslaved to his will, through hypnosis, a somnambulist and
compelled him to carry out his schemes. He was able to divert any suspicion that
might fall on the somnambulist.”

Francis closes the textbook and sets it aside, reading the cover of the other
secret book.

And, again at a closer look, the title of this book is simply, “My Diary.”

Francis, excited, looks to the doctors and then cracks open the journal.

As Francis’ finger slides across the words of the diary, it is almost as though
the crackling voice of Caligari can be heard:

“March the 12th—Finally! Finally—They have reported the admission to the asylum
of a somnambulist!”

On the day mentioned in the journal, in the very same study, the events unfolded
as such: Caligari was brooding over his books at his desk. A doctor entered in a
white lab coat, and went to the director’s desk, pointed at the door and
explained, “The patient is here.” Caligari stood up and shouted, “Bring him in.”
Several doctors brought in a rolling bed with a younger looking Cesare, in his
usual deep sleep. Caligari crept around his desk and walked forward to fully
examine the patient. When he saw Cesare, he achieved a menacing grin and leaned
over the sleeper, then placed a hand on his forehead. He leaned further over
Cesare and stared at his closed eyes. Caligari announced to the doctors that it
was time for them to leave and waved his hands to shoo them away. He had never
been so happy to be alone with a patient. He leaned over to Cesare to put an arm
around his neck. Caligari continued to celebrate by dancing around the room. He
ran to his desk and picked up his copy of his somnambulist textbook, opened it
and brought it to Cesare. Too excited to read, he fell over on Cesare and
laughed at his good fortune.

Thus were the events that Francis and the doctors read in the interesting diary.


At present, Caligari continues to snooze away, breathing in and out deeply.

And in the study, Francis turns a page and points a finger at the diary’s words:


“The irresistible passion of my life is being fulfilled. Now I shall unravel the
psychiatric secrets! Now I shall learn if a somnambulist can perform acts, which
in a waking state, are abhorrent to him.”

In the very same study, the events that took place at an earlier date, were as
follows: Caligari read over his material, over and over, and came upon a text
that made him interested and fearful. He talked to himself, “I’m in the grip of
an obsession.” He looked closely at his book, then picked it up and spoke, “I
must know everything! I must penetrate the heart of his secret…I must become the
doctor.”

Caligari rounded the corner of the asylum’s back lot, and held his book tight.
Words, like hallucinations, appeared to him in the trees that stated, “you must
become the doctor.” Caligari shielded his eyes for a moment and the words
disappeared, only to reappear near the asylum door. The words, “THE DOCTOR”
typed themselves over the strange old man’s head. The text materialized, then
dematerialized.

In the study, at present, Francis fervently reads the diary to the doctors.

But the men become alarmed when a peasant townsperson enters the room, saying,
“We have found the sleeper out in the fields…!” Francis and the doctors follow
the peasant out of the room.

Out in a wooded field, during the same night, a small crowd of townspeople stand
around the passed out Cesare, still lying where he collapsed earlier. Francis
enters the scene, leaning over to identify Cesare and feeling a suspicious
vibration when he sees that it really is the somnambulist. Francis tells a few
men from the crowd to pick up Cesare, as they do and they carry him off.

Later, in the asylum hallway, Francis leads, followed by the doctors that have
Cesare tied to a bed; Francis waves for them to set down the bed as he
discreetly enters the study door.

Moments later, in the study, Caligari is now awake. He stands at the window
behind the desk with his back turned.

Caligari hears Francis enter. He turns to see Francis, and the strange old man
acts as if nothing is out of order.

Francis confronts Caligari accusing him in speech, “Mr. Director—drop your mask!
You are the doctor.”

Caligari acts in shock at this statement, though he is known as a doctor,
widely.

Francis turns around and calls in the other doctors that carry in Cesare on the
bed. Caligari leans back in shock, holding his desk in fear of the whole scene.
Francis pulls back Cesare’s blankets to reveal the sleeper in paralysis, which
causes Caligari to reel in terror. He steps forward and falls on Cesare. He
looks up in awe and confusion. Then, he stands and lashes out at a doctor,
attempting to strangle him, but the others come to the rescue, tearing Caligari
away. He breaks free from their grip at first, but then is overpowered by the
doctors. They somehow manage to get Caligari into a straight jacket, and haul
him off. Francis begins to feel slightly sorry and follows the men.

Later, in the asylum cell, Caligari struggles in his straight jacket and it
looks as though the doctors put him a room with fractal designs on the walls.
The doctors, also in the cell, force Caligari into bed and leave him behind with
the bearded doctor.

Caligari writhes, grumbling and cursing incoherently. He breathes heavily and
finally submits to his imprisoned fate.

The bearded doctor is satisfied with Caligari’s state and closes the cell door
to the fractal filled room. Francis stands outside the door, watching it close
and the doctors have all left the scene. He breathes a breath of relief and
smiles.

So, in the dense woods on a bench, Francis is seated with the old man, relaying
the entire haunted story, wrapping up with Caligari’s imprisonment, “And from
that day on, the madman has never left his cell.” The old man shudders and pulls
on a cloak. He stands, as does Francis.

Meanwhile, at the asylum’s courtyard, all manner of psychosis is in full view
outside. A worker monitors as the inmates engage in aberrant behavior. Jane is
seated on a throne with a crown atop her head.

She has a half smile and stares upwards into nothingness.

A nun attempts to gain the dreaming girl’s attention

There is a raving old man, speaking gibberish—he is a town lunatic, wearing a
long white beard—he shakes his fist at no one in particular.

The chaos in the courtyard is rampant bedlam.

There is a woman in a chair that thinks she is playing a piano. As the piano is
only in her mind, she plays invisible keys.

Francis enters the courtyard with the man he told his story to, going to pay
Jane a visit. They are both startled by a man in black.

Now it is apparent that Cesare is a patient. He is a different sort of
character, this time. Staring at a flower, Cesare is happily lost in his own
world. Still Francis pulls the listener aside and explains, “Look…there’s
Cesare: Never ask him to tell your fortune or you’re as good as dead.”

Cesare caresses his freshly plucked flower.

Francis shudders at Cesare’s presence. The old man that heard the story leaves
the scene out of fear. Francis looks up and sees Jane, making him happy.

Francis walks toward Jane with open arms, but she continues to stare off into
space. He asks her anyway, “Jane, I love you, won’t you marry me?”

Jane has a blank stare, except she shifts her eyes away from Francis. After a
moment she answers him cryptically, “We queens are not permitted to follow the
dictates of our hearts.” She looks back at Francis to assure her sincerity.

Francis turns away and examines the mental patients around him.

A nicely dressed, well kempt Dr. Caligari makes his way down the middle
staircase.

Francis is flabbergasted at the return of Caligari. Caligari speaks, but does
not make any sense to Francis, “It isn’t me…it is the director who is insane!”
Francis moves to attack Caligari, but the asylum doctors intervene quickly,
pulling Francis away. They are forced to put a straight jacket on him.

Francis tries to break loose, as he is placed in the same cell that Caligari was
thought to be placed in before.

The doctors see to it that Francis is their prisoner. Caligari, among them,
places his glasses on and looks deep into Francis’ eyes, laying him down.
Caligari explains to the other doctors, “At last I understand his mania. He
thinks I am a mystical doctor…and now I also know how to cure him.” Dr. Caligari
removes his glasses and places them in his jacket.
---THE END---